21
Chapter Eighteen
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SUMMARY: Bard spends the day with his people, and is reminded that even those with disabilities want to contribute. After lunch, he and Thranduil enjoy a nice visit with the youngest resident of the Palace.
Overall, it's a pleasant day, but remember that saying about the "Calm before the Storm?"
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The Woodland Realm, 16th of February; 2942, T.A.
After the Kings put their horses back in the stables, they enjoyed lunch with the children, and spent the afternoon working in Thranduil's study. Both had paperwork they needed to catch up on, and Bard especially wanted to go over progress reports from Dale. It looked like Percy, Alun and Old Ben had things well in hand. Then he opened the seal of his letter from Percy, and read:
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To Bard, King of Dale:
If you're worrying about being away too long, don't. There isn't a man in this building who holds it against you for looking after our baby. When Hilda and Thranduil wrote me the details, it nearly broke our hearts, and everyone here sends a good thought.
If you're also worried about Dale being vulnerable without you here, you needn't be, either. King Dáin came over the other day to meet with Feren, and those two decided that it "just might be a good time" for their troops to practice maneuvers outside the City walls! Clever, ain't it? Truth be told, both Feren and Dwalin were itching to put the folks through their paces, to keep them sharp, and let me tell you, it's an impressive sight to see from the parapets!
You're not missing much as far as building. It's slowed down, as we had some bitter weather, so we're either finishing interiors or working on materials. One of them big empty halls has been made into a workshop to saw up the logs and smooth planks. Even if we can't be outdoors as much, everyone's got a job to do.
Old Ben will be headed your way in a few days, so tell our Sigrid and Rhian to have his clothes and such ready. You and Thranduil would have laughed to see our Tauriel, when she started grabbing his mending! I was biting my knuckles to keep from laughing! There he was, waving his hands around and telling her to stop it, and our little red-head just stood there, with the same look Hilda gets. Alun and I couldn't keep quiet when she demanded he hand over all his ripped trousers, including the ones he was wearing, or she'd take them off himself! I thought his face would turn purple, he was so flummoxed! I think he likes being fussed over. Then she told him Rhian put herself in charge of looking after him, and he shut right up and smiled.
Thangon wasn't as upset as we thought he'd be after you left; he seems to know you had to go. We've all been fussing over him, and he sleeps in my room, at night. That first night, Tauriel tried to take him, but her cat kept beating on him, so your boy's safer with me. Feren and the others take him out hunting, so he's getting plenty of exercise, and Tauriel likes to brush him at night, while he lays there, rolls his eyes, and moans. It's almost obscene.
The tournaments proceed apace, in the Great Hall. Bifur and Feren are neck-and-neck in the Stratagem Tourney, and Turamarth keeps wiping the floor with the Elves at darts. You'll be happy to know his Westron is coming along nicely, and by spring, I'm sure he'll be chatting you up just like his cousin does.
Speaking of cousins, tell Daeron that we're all grateful here for helping Tilda. Thranduil wrote and told us all he's been doing for our Little Bean, and we'll never forget it.
The Chief Healer's busy treating lots of colds. It was bound to happen with so many in close quarters. It'd be a lot worse, but for Emron's insistence that everyone wash their hands left, right, front and backwards. As far as injuries go, he's only got the usual smashed fingers from hammers, or splinters. One Elf fell from the rafters in a house and broke his leg, but that was soon remedied, and he was back to work, good as new after a week, can you believe it? A week! Elves...
The men and Elves that were too bad off to make the trip back in December are doing well, although I'm sure the Healer's told you that already. Two of them are up and around more, but he won't let them outside, just yet.
Our Tauriel is holding up, and keeping busy; she's like everybody else here, my boy. We're all missing our loved ones, be they in the Palace, or passed on to wherever Eru sends them.
Folks from the Original Company pay her special kindness, when they come. If you can believe it, Dwalin, is the one who helps her most, when she gets down in the dumps.
"That lass is a warrior," he says, "I ken what she needs."
Then, the two of them go to that empty dining hall by our rooms and do some sparring. They're quite the spectacle, when they go at each other, and the ones who bet on Tauriel win just as much as the ones to bet on the Dwarf.
I've already written to Hilda, but please give her my love anyway. Tell her I'll be along soon, to see my best girl.
Regards,
Percy, Steward of Dale
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Bard smiled, as he folded up the letter, and looked over at his husband, who was reading. "Did you get the report from Feren, yet?"
"I'm reading it now," he replied with a grin. "I'm pleased. My troops are practicing by the West Gate, and the Dwarves are working before the Southern entrance facing the Long Lake." He finished reading the paper, then set it down. "Tauriel tells me she's working with Dwalin, and he's a worthy opponent." He looked at bit puzzled.
"Aye. Percy said that, too." Bard smirked. "Whoddathunk?"
"With so much to accomplish quickly, it is easy to forget that many are in mourning. I am glad that she and Dwalin can find a way to work through it."
Bard shook his head. "That Dwarf is not somebody I'd want to get mad at me, but he's got a soft spot for Tauriel, then it's all to her benefit. He's a good sort, really. Once you've earned Dwalin's trust, he'd give his own head for you; he just doesn't get mushy about it."
Thranduil considered this. "I agree." Then he finished putting his papers in a stack, and set them aside. "Are you finished, Meleth nîn?"
"Just about, love. I've just got this inventory to look over and then I can stop, for a while."
"Good." The Elvenking told him. "Today is Bain and Rhys's weaponry lesson, and I know you won't want to miss it. We've got some time, so we can visit Tilda, then go. Sigrid will be in the Healing Halls, so we can stop and see her at work when we're done with the boys."
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Later, Bard sat in the arena and watched Daeron and his assistants at work with the boys, and was impressed. Daeron had them working with their practice swords today, and he could see Bain's concentration and focus. Some of the other boys were eager to plunge in, and had to be corrected, but not Bain. He was not going to speed up his movements, until he was sure he had it exactly right, and seemed fine with practicing his forms, and positions as until they were not only perfect, but second-nature. For a boy with an eager, enthusiastic personality, he was a bit surprised to see his calm demeanor and his patience with himself. This was a side to Bain he'd never seen before, but Bard had a feeling more of this would emerge, as the boy grew into adulthood. For all that Thranduil keeps saying Bain will be the best of Kings, it was exciting to see evidence of it.
Bain seemed to have an affinity with the sword, rather than archery, and many would be surprised to learn Bard was fine with it. Every child should be allowed to pursue his or her own natural talents; not be pressured into fulfilling some sort of legacy. All Bard wanted was for any child to be the best selves they can be.
After the weapons class, the two Kings took a tour of the Healing Halls, with Elénaril and Sigrid in tow. Together, they sat and chatted with the patients, who were surprised and flattered, to have both Kings take an interest in them. Bard was pleased to see how well his people worked with the Elves, and all seemed happy with his daughter's work. To Sigrid's credit, she never demanded deference due to her station. She never complained about the tasks given her, whether its pounding and grinding roots for hours, changing sheets or emptying chamber pots.
Their children's lives were on a good track, with bright futures ahead, and both Bard and his Elf prayed the same for their youngest, who was fighting her hardest to be herself again.
One foot in front of the other.
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The Woodland Realm, 17th of February, 2942, T.A.
Bard and Thranduil had another busy day ahead, but their schedule looked to be a pleasant one. They helped see the children, Hilda and Galion off, then went to give Tilda her breakfast.
They were going to look after their daughter in the morning, then Tilda would receive care from her Auntie Hil and Uncle Galion in the afternoon, while Bard had meetings.
"Come on, love; let's work your hands. Squeeze the ball for us. One…Two…Three…" and all the way to ten.
"Can Ada count?" she asked, putting it in the other hand.
"Sure can, love. Let me get him." he got up, and called to his husband, who had been sitting at the dining room table. "You're up, Ada. The Princess awaits your presence."
"I am coming," he said, and soon he appeared in the doorway to the nursery. "I must wash and dress, first." Once done, he smiled and asked, "Shall I count in Westron, or Sindarin, hênig?"
She smiled. "Sindarin."
The Elvenking bowed formally to the Princess. "Your wish is my command," and he sat on the bed. "Let us begin, shall we? Mîn… Tâd… Nêl… Canad… Leben… Eneg… Odog… Tolodh… Neder…"
"Pae!" Tilda squealed, as she hugged Charlotte. She smiled up at Bard, amazed at herself.
Bard's heart gave a little lurch. "Is that Ten in Elvish?"
"Uh huh!"
"Very good!" Both fathers rewarded her by blowing raspberries into her neck as she giggled and squirmed.
"You're smarter than I am, Beanie. Tauriel's been trying to teach me those numbers for weeks, and I still can't get them right." He rolled his eyes. I think she's going to have to start beating them into my noggin with a stick!"
Tilda looked at him, and her brow wrinkled in confusion.
Bard took a deep breath. This is normal… this is normal.
"Tauriel is Thranduil's daughter and she lives in Dale, love. She's very tall, like Ada. She's an Elf, too, but she doesn't have light hair. She's got long red hair, and wears a green uniform…"
Tilda sat back and looked at him, then Esta crawled up and pushed her head under her hand.
"I think someone wants you to pet her." He smiled down at her. "Go on, love."
Once Tilda was petting the dog, Thranduil whispered, "Describe her again," very softly.
So, he said it all again.
Tilda thought for a moment, then her face showed recognition. "Tauriel..."
"That is correct, Tithen Pen. She lives in your Da's Castle in Dale, and her room is right across from yours and Sigrid's."
The little girl said. "New sister."
"She is, and she loves you very much." Thranduil smiled down at her.
Tilda looked up at her Ada. "Where is…" she got stuck.
"Tauriel?"
She shook her head.
"Uncle Galion?"
Again, no.
"Beanie, if you can't remember somebody's name, try to picture them in your mind, and tell us what you see," Bard suggested.
"Like that." She pointed to Thranduil's hair.
"Oh! You mean Legolas, don't you?"
"Uh huh." She nodded. "Leg…olas."
"Ah, well. Legolas is Ada's son, and you're right. He does have hair like him."
"A Elf."
"Yes, hênig." Thranduil smiled. "That is very good. Legolas is an Elf, like me."
"And so is…Tauriel."
"That is also correct. They are my own children, just like you, Sigrid and Bain are your father's children, and together we make a family, do we not?"
The little girl considered that, as she stroked Esta's head. "Big family. And a dog."
Bard laughed. "Well, we have two dogs, and even a cat. I have a big dog back in Dale, that Ada gave me, and he gave Tauriel a grey tabby cat named Farien."
"That's a lot, Da."
"Lucky I have a big Castle, then."
"Where is Legolas?"
To Thranduil's credit, he didn't react, but gave their girl a reassuring smile. "Oh, Legolas has gone on a long trip. There were important things he needed to take care of."
"Oh. Da?"
"What, love?"
"I remembered, right?"
"You sure did. You remembered Tauriel and Legolas, and you remembered some Sindarin numbers, which is more than I can do. Guess you're a lot smarter than me, yeah?" Bard gave her a hug, and kissed her hair.
"I am glad you did so well, Tithen Pen, but now it is time to do your morning exercises to get your legs and arms strong again." Thranduil got up, and shooed Esta down to the floor, and folded her covers back. "Let us begin, shall we? I want you to get strong, as soon as possible, so you can ride a horse, and even maybe one of my Elk! Would you like that?"
"Aye!" Tilda said.
Bard rolled his eyes. "Of course, you'd remember that, with no trouble" he said wryly.
"Pay no attention to your Da, Tithen Pen," Thranduil said happily. "He is afraid of my Elk, but you are smarter than that. He is convinced they will eat you up, but Da is being very silly."
Tilda's face lit up. "I fed them."
"And you still have all your fingers. Wiggle them for Da, so he can stop whining… Very good. Can you wiggle them some more?"
Tilda smiled at Thranduil and wiggled her fingers, as Bard winked at his Elf. Its a good excuse to work on her coordination, even if it was at his own expense.
Once they did her morning exercises, it was time for her nap, so they tucked her in, then went into their bedchamber.
"In all the excitement, I have not thought to mention it, but, I want to show you something." Thranduil got up and went to his small desk.
"I meant to ask why you put a desk in here. I thought you did no 'Kinging' in this room."
"I do not. When you left, I had this brought in, because I did not want to keep this in my study, and I work on it each night before I get into bed." He opened a drawer, and got out the box Bard had given him, and put it on the bed.
"You don't have to show me this, you know." Bard reminded him.
"I want to, Bard." Thranduil took the book out of the box, and after they both settled against the headboard, he said, "This was hard, at first; I will not lie about that. But it has been… a wonderful thing to do. As I sit and write, I feel the happiness of those times, and I picture Legolas reading all this…" The Elvenking leaned his head on Bard's shoulder. "It is a gift for my son, but I did not know what a good thing it would be for me, as well."
Bard put his arm around his husband and kissed his hair. "I'm glad, love," he whispered.
Thranduil opened the book, and showed him a page near the beginning. This sketch was much more detailed than the ones on the mantle. It was a series of thin minute lines and dots that added reality to the drawing, with its intricate shading. It was clearly evident it was drawn by a loving hand.
There she was.
She was relaxing in a chair, in a hall very different than the Palace; the architecture resembled the lines and curves of the bed Bain had slept in, from Rivendell. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, and onto her back in wide, graceful waves. Long, graceful fingers held a book, and he could see her dark eyes consider the words. The sun was shining through a window on her left, and rested on her hair, and her cheek, as she read.
Her ears were lovely, pointed accents against her dark hair, her cheekbones were prominent, and her brow was smooth. Her face while not smiling in the picture, was kind, and showed a keen intelligence and a quiet strength. Bard had seen that face before; on the Queen's tall, blonde son.
She was absolutely beautiful.
"Oh, Thranduil…" Bard breathed. "I can see why you loved her... How do you do it? You didn't just capture her likeness; you've captured her presence. It's like she's in this room, sitting right in front of us!"
Thranduil looked at him, searching his eyes. "You mean this, Bard? Truly?"
The Elf seemed anxious for Bard's… what? Approval?
Yes he was.
"I mean it with all my heart." He smiled at his Elf. "This is lovely, and if she was as sweet as she looks here, you and your people were blessed to have her for as long as you did. I find it hard to believe Legolas would still feel like his mother was a stranger to him, after reading about her life with you, and seeing all these pictures. You've made her real, again; maybe for yourself, too."
Thranduil looked into his eyes, and swallowed. "Thank you, Meleth nîn," he whispered, and took his hand. "I am so glad you think this way."
"How far along have you gotten?"
"I have not written since Tilda became sick, but when things calm down, I want to resume. In the spring, I will send it with Gandalf to Rivendell. Elrond can keep it for Legolas, until he comes."
"Whoa, stop there; what's that?" Bard said, as Thranduil flipped through the pages. There was a sketch of his wife, her hair all mussed and a frown on her face. He laughed. "What's she doing there?"
"Oh, that," Thranduil smirked. "She hated mornings, and was always grumpy, until she had her tea and breakfast. In that picture, Legolas was still an infant, and did not sleep at night. I wrote about that, too." Thranduil ran his fingers over the graceful Tengwar script, that obviously described the drawing.
Bard shook his head. "Her hair looks like mine in the mornings."
Thranduil looked at the picture. "It does. Perhaps that is why I like it so much."
"So…you have a 'type?'" Bard winked at him, and nudged him with his shoulder.
"If you mean I am attracted to dark-haired, irreverent, mouthy spouses, I suppose I do."
"Bet she didn't swear as much as I do."
"She had her moments. But, no one swears as much as you."
"I'm so glad you're doing this, love. If she was as wonderful as you say, her memory deserves to stay alive." Bard studied his husband. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Does this make you miss her, more? You can tell me, if it does."
Thranduil sat up straighter, and considered. "Of course, thinking of these things, and writing them down brought up a lot of intense feelings, and not a few tears. I had wondered if I was doing you a disservice." He looked at Bard, nervous to admit this. "It became confusing to me, and I was afraid."
"Why?"
"As I wrote, my feelings about her became stronger for a while, but then changed, in a good way. I realized that this does nothing to diminish my feelings for you, or my life here with our family at all."
"Why do you think so?"
"Doing this," he gestured toward the pages, "seemed to... settle things even more, and I feel good about it. It is a way for me to tell her how glad I was to have her in my life. I think when I finish, Mírelen will be a source of memory, not mourning." He leaned his head on Bard's shoulder. "I love that you want her to be a part of us, and I want your Mattie to be, as well. They are the unseen guests at our dinner table; watching over us with loving smiles, as we look after their children."
Bard and Thranduil regarded each other, then pressed their foreheads together. "I like that." He told his Elf.
"Perhaps, your children might like something similar about their own mother, someday."
"That's a good idea. I'll think about it. If you want to work on it while I'm here, feel free."
"Thank you for that, but… I would like to do this privately. I hope you understand."
"I do." He kissed the Elvenking's nose and got off the bed. "It's time for me to make my rounds, love."
"I will be here."
Bard made his way through the halls of the Palace and into the Dining Hall, where the children were crowded around the tables, working.
An Elven guard came up and saluted him. "Good morning," he said to the Elf. "Where is Mistress Bronwyn?" After the Elf pointed in her direction, he could see she was presiding over the table with the older children, so he walked over.
"Hello, all!" he said. "You're hard at work, I see."
Bronwyn went to stand beside him, "Children? How do we greet our King?"
At once, they all got up, and bowed and curtsied to show their deference. He was tempted to tell the children not to bother, but part of their education was courtly etiquette and he didn't want to undermine that. His own children knew to observe courtesy in public, and he was pleased to see Sigrid and Bain do so, without prompting.
"Thank you all," he nodded. "May I come around and see what you're working on?"
Bronwyn went with him, from table to table, as the teachers gave him brief summaries of the lesson plans.
"When we first came here, King Thranduil, Lady Hilda and I met, and we decided to group the children not only by age, but by ability." She explained, and indicated to a group of tables on their right. "These are the children who have been taught to read and write, My Lord. "The table over there," she indicated, "are for those who are still learning the basics, but you will be pleased to see how fast they are catching up." They continued to walk around, and Bard was pleased to see their level of achievement.
He was surprised at how many Elves were teaching the students, as well. "Are the Elves' lesson plans any different than ours?"
"No, My Lord. All the teachers meet once a week, to make sure we are meshing well. Some are learning Sindarin, yes, but all are learning to read and write well in Westron. What you see here, is only part of the instruction. Since so many in Laketown had no chance at an education before this, we've got tutors that meet with one or two at a time in the afternoons, to get each child at the level he or she ought to be. King Thranduil had requested every Elf who knew our language to assist, to get these kids caught up."
Bronwyn smiled proudly at him. "Right now, it seems like chaos, My Lord, but by next year, it will all come together, to begin the formal school in Dale."
Bard was impressed. "This is… amazing, Bronwyn! You deserve a lot of credit for coordinating all this. How do you do it?"
She smiled. "Lady Hilda is a big help. No one can put a plan together like she can!"
Bard couldn't help but laugh. "Now, that doesn't surprise me. I'll never know how she handles it all."
"She's a big reason why we are all doing so well, here." Bronwyn agreed, easily.
"Are the kids happy? How are they without their fathers? Are the orphans having a hard time?"
"We keep them busy, My Lord, and that helps. They all struggle, to some degree, but we've got a few who don't know how to handle it. Your children and Rhys keep a listening ear out for that, so we can help them."
"Does it work?"
"For the most part, it does, and we encourage the children to find ways to express their feelings, such as drawing, physical activity, or sitting around in groups and sharing stories about their Mams or Das. We've had a few instances of bullying, but the offenders were sent to King Thranduil, who put the fear of the Valar into them!"
They both laughed for a minute, then Bronwyn became serious. "The best thing the Elf King did was gather some volunteers from his Army to mentor those who need real help. The Elf is paired with a child, and gives them structure and support, and someone to talk to. Those children learn ways to work off their anger and hurt, through military exercises, and through setting goals. It's been a great success."
Bard grinned at her, "That's bloody brilliant. Where is Hilda, do you know?"
"She 's in the East Library right now, My Lord. She meets with the Elven parents twice a week."
"Good; I want to see that." He bowed politely, and kissed her hand. "Thank you, Mistress, for all your hard work."
She curtsied, "It's my honor, Sire."
Bard and his guard made their way quickly to the library. It was on the opposite side of the Palace from the Royal Wing that housed Thranduil's own, more extensive collection of books and scrolls.
The Elven guard brought him to the door, where a large gathering of Elves and women were seated. Hilda was up front, standing next to Elénaril and Hannah. Elénaril was speaking about common childhood ailments, and their treatments. The Elves were intently listening, and some were taking notes.
"Hello, Lord Bard! So glad you could join us!" Hilda had seen him standing in the doorway, and motioned for him to come in. Everyone got up from their chairs and either saluted, Elf-style, or curtsied.
Bard nodded politely, "Thank you, everyone. Do you mind if I sit in and observe?"
"Of course not, My Lord." Hilda motioned for someone to get him a chair.
"Please, don't let me interrupt, go on." Bard smiled at the Elven healer.
So, Bard sat down, and listened to the lecture, and the question and answer session, afterward. He was pleased with the keen interest of the Elves, and when he was asked to step up and say a few words, he told them so.
"First of all, thank you, to those who have opened your hearts and your homes to our children. Whether you come to Dale and live, or stay in the Woodland Realm, from everything I see here, you're committed to provide excellent care, while encouraging them retain their heritage as children of Men. I value not only your kindness, but also your respect, for our race. I'm impressed with your questions. Lady Hilda has told about the mentoring program she's begun, and I hear it's going well.
"We all have one goal, here: to see these children grow and thrive, so they can be a credit to themselves, their families, and all the Northern Kingdoms. For our mentors, thank you for volunteering your time, support and experience to each family. In case any of you are wondering if I mind whether these children stay here, or in Dale, I don't. All I care about is that they're loved, well taken care of, happy, and productive. No one expects an adoptive parent to give up their duties or vocations - each family is unique, and so is their situation. King Thranduil and I understand this, and you have our continuing support. Thank you."
There was a nice round of applause, then Bard stayed to meet with some individual new parents. Everyone asked about Tilda, and extended their wishes for a speedy recovery.
When he saw a familiar elleth with auburn hair and a cute dimple, he made sure to greet her.
"Hello, 'Lindë! How are the girls?"
"Good morning, Lord Bard; they are well. My parents are watching them, this morning.
"Ah. Elven grandparents. Do they spoil their grandchildren like Men do?"
She laughed. "If you mean filling their tummies with treats and smothering them love, then it would seem so."
"How's Gruffudd? What's he up to?"
"He is with some of his friends. The men get together once or twice a week to play cards or draughts. It is good for him to get out; Feren and I encourage him to do this."
"Is he feeling all right? How's his leg?"
"I think… " she sighed, shook her head. "I know his leg hurts him sometimes, and he enjoys the children very much, but I sense there is something bothering him, and I do not know what it is. I have asked him, and he brushes it off."
"I heard he wants to make sure the children don't forget their parents. Do you think he's afraid of that?"
"On the contrary, I have encouraged him to share stories of them. I plan to write them down, for when Alis and Dafina are older."
Bard smiled at her kindness. "Tell you what. I'm headed that way, I'll talk to him."
"Oh, My Lord; I do not want to cause trouble – "
"It's no trouble, 'Lindë. These are my people, and this is my job. Besides, I doubt it has anything to do with the care you've given him. Sounds like it's something else."
"Thank you, My Lord." She seemed relieved. "We have grown to love him as much as the girls, and if there is something we can do to help him…"
"I'll get to the bottom of it."
Bard left Hilda and the parents, and went to the Visitor's wing of the Palace, and spoke with several residents to make sure they were happy with things, which they were. That didn't surprise him. None of them had ever lived in rooms as nice as these, with an abundance of good food, so, besides missing their men, they were pleased.
Then he made his way to one particular room, where several gentlemen were sitting around tables and chatting. Most of them were elderly, but some were younger, but too injured to stay in Dale.
After making the rounds and saying hello, he joined in a game of cards, and chatted with the men. Whoever organized this was smart; there were no pubs here in the Palace, so this was the next best thing.
Once the game was over (Bard didn't win), Bard went to where Gruffudd was sitting with his pipe.
"Hey there. How's life with your girls?" He shook the man's hand, and sat down.
"Couldn't be better, My Lord. 'Lindë and Feren love 'em like their own, and the little ones are thrilled."
"How are you with that, Gruffudd? Feren and 'Lindë are, for all intents, their parents, now. Does that sit well with you?"
The older man looked sad. "We're not meant to bury our children, My Lord. I miss my daughter like the air I breathe." He reached into his pocket and wiped his nose with his red kerchief. "My son-in-law was a good sort, too. But at least I've got the girls, and 'Lindë and Feren are wonderful to them, and kind to me."
"If I may ask, do the girls say much about your daughter?"
"That's the best part. 'Lindë's keen to make sure the girls know who their Mam and Da were. I want to share some things, so she can write them down, but I'm not ready to do that, just yet… if you take my meaning, sir." He wiped his eyes, with a sad smile. "Some days are better than others, but still..."
Bard put his hand on the older man's shoulder. "It's always the way of things, yeah? How's the leg?"
Gruffudd massaged his stump. "It aches, and some nights it pains me some, but 'Lindë took me to the Healers and got some salve to put on it. It'll be months before I can get meself a new leg, but I get around on the crutches all right." He changed the subject. "How's your own wee one? She's on the mend, I hear."
"Thanks for asking; she's improving every day, thank the Valar."
"Good to hear. That Elf of yours is real good to your kids. He's good to all of us."
"I'm a lucky man." Bard grinned. "Gruffudd, I came to see if there was something I could do for you."
"Oh, don't worry about me, My Lord. I've got no rights to complain. I've got a comfortable bed, great food, and good company. I could always use some ale, mind you. A man likes a drink or two in the evenings." He gave the King of Dale a mischievous wink.
"I'll have a word with our host, and take care of that." Bard sat back steepled his fingers, and looked at him. "So, you've got a comfortable bed, good food, and you seem to enjoy your time here," Bard gestured around the room, "And yet…?"
"What?"
"Gruffudd, you risked your life, and sacrificed a limb to help save our people. I owe a great debt, to you, and every man in this room. Tell me what it is I can do."
He cleared his throat. "Beggin' your pardon, My Lord, I've nothing to be unhappy about..."
"But?"
"It's just that… I've worked hard all my life. Kept busy from the minute I get up, until my head hits the pillow, at night. I'm just... not used to bein' fussed over like this. It makes me feel old and useless, and I've got quite a few good years left in me, yet. 'Lindë is a blessing, really she is, but, I'm used to doin' for myself, and she always likes to wait on me hand and foot. She keeps sayin' what you just did, about how much I deserve it, and I love her for it…"
"But you want to be useful."
"It's my way, My Lord. I'm the same age as Lord Percy, and look at all he's doing! I've been injured, yes, but sometimes all that fuss makes me feel…ruined. There's got to be somethin' I can do."
Gruffudd was absolutely right. The men of Dale had never been slackers, and to spend their days sitting around, playing cards or being looked after like this could be discouraging. They all needed a purpose.
Bard raised an eyebrow at the man and smirked. "I'll bet a job isn't as noisy than two little girls underfoot all the time."
"Aye, you're right about that, and no mistake." Gruffudd chuckled. "My own Da used to say, 'You love to see 'em come, and you love to see 'em go.' You'll see for yourself, when your own grandchildren come along. I love those two dearly, but few things can wear a man out, like grandchildren." Then Gruffudd looked apologetic. "I sound ungrateful, I know. But this sitting around, like a doddering old man just isn't me."
Bard smiled at the man, and crossed arms. "You're right, Gruffudd, it isn't you. And I suspect all you men would feel the same way. Don't blame the Elves, though. They simply see it as honoring you for how you suffered. Many of them are grieving over their own loved ones, and maybe looking after you all, helps them get past their own pain."
"Aye, that makes sense."
"Try to also keep in mind, that we're all learning about each other, here. They haven't had a chance to see how capable Men can be, even in the face of disability. This is all kindly meant."
"These Elves are very kind, I'll grant you that. And I truly enjoy 'Lindë and Feren. That's why I feel so bad about complaining."
Bard stood up, and put out his hand, "I'll take care of this. I appreciate your honesty, my friend."
"I'm grateful, My Lord. Best wishes to your family."
"Thank you."
.
.
It was time for Bard to return to their chambers for lunch. He met up with the kids, as they were making their way there.
"Sea Monsters! What does the rest of your day bring?"
"Hi, Da!" Bain said. "We've got weapons classes this afternoon, then Sindarin lessons and writing in the Library."
"Sounds like fun. Are you as hungry as I am? 'Kinging' is hard work."
"Did you like what you found?" Sigrid asked. "How do you think we're all doing?"
"I'm very impressed." He put his arm around Sigrid and kissed her hair. "Are you going to the Healing Halls, later?"
"For a little while. I've got Sindarin, and writing, too. Ada says now that Tilda's better, I need to get back to my own studies."
"He's right, you know."
They went into the apartment, and saw that Galion had the table set. "How are things here?" he asked the Aide.
"Tilda has just woken up from her morning nap, and Thranduil has gone in to see her."
"Oh, good. Boys, can you take Esta out for –" Bard turned to Galion, "How long till the food gets here?"
"Roughly fifteen minutes, My Lord."
"Thanks. Let her get some exercise, then come in and get washed."
"Sure, Da." Bain called the dog, and they left.
Bard and Sigrid washed and gowned, then went in to see their little one. Tilda looked especially happy to see her sister, who quickly carried the little girl to the privy.
Bard went over to Thranduil, and kissed him. "Did she take a good nap?"
"She was up earlier than yesterday. This is still fairly easy, because she is still weak, but it will be difficult when she begins to regain her energy."
"Aye, you're right about that. I'll be back in Dale, by then." Bard sighed. "I was thinking; Daeron's not going to have time to give Tilda the care she needs when she becomes mobile, plus all his other duties. That's a lot to ask, even if he could."
"I agree." Thranduil nodded. "Tilda seems to get along with Meriel, so I was thinking of asking her to help Tilda with her through her physical and memory exercises and schoolwork."
"That's a good idea. I don't want to just stick her with a stranger, and I don't want Sigrid to take the responsibility. Can Elénaril spare her? Your Healing Hall is a lot busier these days, with all the children running about. She may need her."
"I do not know. But we will ask Elénaril. If she needs Meriel, she will say so, and she and Daeron can help us find someone else. We will have things set up, before you leave, so you do not have to worry. Thranduil assured him.
"Hi Da." Tilda smiled, as Sigrid carried her in. "I'm hungry."
"That's good to hear, Beanie. Let's get you some lunch then." Bard called out to ask for her lunch, and to bring his in, too.
Soon, Tilda was fed, washed and her bedding changed, and Sigrid and Galion were beginning her afternoon exercises.
Once that was done, Hilda came to spend the afternoon at the apartment, so they could get back to their schedule. After seeing the children off to their afternoon activities, so Bard and Thranduil made ready to continue Their duties.
"How did your Council meeting go?"
"Very well, I think. They were anxious for reassurance that our aid to Dale will not deplete the stores for our own people too much."
Bard stopped him, with a worried look. "Have we been doing that, Thranduil? If your people are going without, just to take care of mine... I can't let you do that."
Thranduil put his hands on Bard's shoulders. "Peace, Bard. It is the Council's job to be pessimistic, and to consider every worst-case scenario. I assure you, the reports all say we could feed you for years upon years. I think many members of the Council are secretly pleased to have something to be anxious about. This Palace as seen more upheaval and activity in the past few months, that it has for hundreds and hundreds of years." He shrugged. "They were getting bored."
"Fine, but promise me you'll tell me if there's a problem with that." Bard said.
"Of course, Meleth nîn." Thranduil smiled. "If you like, sit in on a meeting or two, so you can speak with them yourself. The experience would be good training for you."
"I'd like that." The Bowman agreed, as they continued down the hallway. "Is Daeron coming after weapons training, later?"
"He is," Thranduil said. "But he only has time for a quick examination. He will be meeting this evening with her teachers. We will know more about that, tomorrow."
They arrived at the apartment, and knocked on the door.
"Good afternoon, Lord Thranduil, Lord Bard." Hannah said. "Please, come in. We've been expecting you." As she ushered the Kings into the living room to sit, they heard soft whispered and cooing noise from the other room.
The Midwife explained with a smile, "Rhian said to excuse her not answering the door; Darryn needed a quick diaper change."
Bard smiled, "Babies don't much care for the plans of Kings; all they want is to eat, sleep and poop."
Hannah giggled, and Bard laughed, when he saw Thranduil roll his eyes.
"I wonder if my husband has ever changed a dirty diaper." Bard teased him.
"I most certainly did. I took care of Legolas, and I even changed young Darryn on the day he was born, much to Sigrid's surprise."
Just then, Rhian came out of the bedroom, carrying her seven-week-old son, who looked around with curious eyes, under a thick mop of dark curls.
"Here's our little man!" Bard immediately got up to go see him. "Hello, Darryn; you've grown, haven't you?"
"Good afternoon, My Lord," Rhian said shyly, looking down at her baby.
"May I hold him?"
"Of course." Rhian handed him over, and curtsied to Thranduil. "Good afternoon, Lord Thranduil."
"Thank you for having us in your home." Thranduil told her kindly. "How are you, Rhian?"
"Oh, my goodness, My Lord; this is your home! Thank you for letting me have these rooms."
Thranduil looked at her with a firm smile. "For as long as you reside here, this is your home, and you have the right to say who enters, and who does not. Remember, Darryn is a citizen and my subject, as well as of Dale, so you have the right to all this."
The girl looked comforted at these words. "You're very kind. I'm not used to having a say in things, begging your pardon."
"You'd better get used to it," Bard said, as he sat with the baby and fussed over him. "Sigrid was telling me how solid he was. He's a big boy; look at those legs." He laughed at the child. "The last time I saw you, you were brand-new, and liked to sneeze at me."
Just then Darryn gave the King of Dale a toothless smile, and cooed at him. "He likes me! See? Don't tell me that's just gas, Thranduil. I know a real smile when I see one."
The Elvenking peered over and saw the boy. "Human babies fascinate me. They develop so rapidly; his face is so much rounder, now. One does not want to miss a minute." He took the boy's hand. "He looks more and more like his mother." Darryn's eyes moved from Bard's face to stare up and Thranduil with intense blue eyes.
"If that's the case, he'll be a very handsome man. So, Rhian," Bard nestled the baby in his arms. "Tell me how you've been. You look wonderful, by the way."
She really did. Gone were the dark circles, the strained, unhappy expression, and the thin pale cheeks. The girl's face had filled out and her hair was shiny. And she was smiling; a shy uncertain smile, but nonetheless, it was evident that she was doing better. Rhian was a stunner, and Bard had no doubt she'll be turning heads everywhere she goes. He sincerely hoped so; if ever there was a girl who deserved happiness, it was she.
"I do feel much better, thanks to you, and King Thranduil's kindness. I take walks every day with Indis, and Hannah," she turned toward the other women, and took her hand, "comes to talk with me twice a week, and it helps me, a lot. I'm learning to read and write, and Sigrid's been helping me take care of Old Ben's things. He's been so nice; I want to look after him, like he looked after me."
"I know he appreciates it, and he'll tell you that himself, when he gets here." Bard told her, as he made silly faces at the baby. "I know he's anxious to see this little man. You and Darryn are all he can talk about. I'm glad Hannah's helping you write letters to him. Old Ben busts his buttons every time he gets one. You're going to have one besotted Grandad on your hands; hope you're ready for it."
"I can't wait to see him!" Rhian said, her eyes brightening. "Indis told me he'll be staying near here, where Alun and Rhys stayed."
Bard looked to Thranduil, "Did you arrange this?"
When the Elvenking nodded yes, Bard told her, "I think King Thranduil wants to hold your son. Is that all right?"
"Of course, My Lord." Rhian said. "He's real friendly, and hardly cries at all."
When Bard handed him over, Darryn regarded the Elvenking thoughtfully, then grabbed a fist full of his hair, and gave it a good yank. The baby chuckled his pleasure at this accomplishment, and tried to bring the lock of hair to his mouth. Thranduil managed to disengage it just before the boy could chew on it. Baby and Elvenking regarded each other with big smiles, as Thranduil waved his fingers in front of his face. Darryn seemed to like this, and squealed.
"He doesn't cry much?" Bard asked. "Tilda was like that, thank the Valar, but my Sigrid was colicky."
Hannah smiled. "Oh, I remember!"
Bard smiled. "I'll bet you do. Mattie and I couldn't have gotten through that month, without you." Then he explained to Thranduil and Rhian. "Hannah and Hilda helped bring all my children into the world."
"That I did." Hannah grinned. "Lord Bard's right. Your friend Sigrid was a real screamer."
Bard laughed, then told the young girl, "It was Hannah's idea to go get my Da, to settle her down."
Rhian looked interested at this story. "Really?"
"It's true, love." Hannah told the girl. "Brand had one of those deep voices, and Sigrid loved it. You wait till Ben gets here; his is low and gravely, and I'll bet the baby will love him. See how Darryn is watching Lord Thranduil when he talks? He's got a deep voice, too."
They all watched Darryn's mesmerized face, as Thranduil spoke nonsense to him, and the little boy was clearly fascinated.
"I'd no idea." Rhian said. "I know you and Indis told Daeron not to fix the squeak in my rocking chair. I didn't know what you meant, until I saw how the noise calms him down. You know so much about all this... What made you want to be a midwife?"
"Oh, I've picked up a thing or two, over the years. Maggie, the old midwife, delivered all three of my children, and she saw I had an interest, and offered to train me. I've been doing it ever since; it kept food on the table after my Martyn passed, Valar rest his soul." The woman smiled at Rhian. "I helped your Mam bring you into the world too, you know. You were my third birth, after Maggie died."
"How many babies have you delivered?" Bard asked.
"Oh, Stars, who knows? Been doing it for twenty years. I kept records of all the births I attended, but they're a pile of ash, now."
"How are our other expectant mothers?" Thranduil inquired.
"Doing just fine. One's due any day, so I've been watching her closely. Soon our little Darryn won't be the youngest in the Kingdom, will he? The next one is due in about a month." Hannah looked addressed the Elvenking. "All the good food you've been giving us, helps make sure those babes will be healthy. Bless you, for that."
"I'm proud of you, Rhian, for all your hard work." Bard smiled at the girl. "So, tell me; what do you think of motherhood?"
"Oh, I love him, so much! He sleeps at night, now, and he likes everybody. You should see him, when Daeron comes to visit; he was the first one my baby smiled at."
"So, he's been a good friend?"
Rhian nodded. "He stops by when he can, but he's busy taking care of the Prince and Princesses, and teaching the boys in the afternoons. I doubt we'll be seeing much of him, while he looks after Lady Tilda. Sigrid and I are becoming good friends; I like her a lot." Rhian became serious. "My Lord, I'm happy to hear Lady Tilda is doing better."
"Thank you, Rhian. If it weren't for Daeron, I doubt she'd even be here, now." Bard told the women.
"I don't doubt it. That boy's a good egg." Hannah said firmly.
"I agree." Bard looked down at the baby, who was cooing in Thranduil's arms, "What do you think, young man?"
Darryn looked intently at Bard, then expressed his approval by screwing up his face and loudly passing gas.
"High praise indeed. I am sure Daeron will be honored by your compliment." The Elvenking responded, with a smile.
The King of Dale rolled his eyes. "Darryn, you and Thangon are going to get along beautifully."