11
Chapter 22
Summary:So, Hilda leads Thranduil to the wrong room.
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Or did she?
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C'mon folks; you HAD to see this coming... ;-P
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The Woodland Realm, 19th of February 2942, T.A.
Thranduil froze in place, with no idea what to do, and from the shocked and uncomfortable look on Bard's face, he didn't either.
At last, he found his voice, which came out shakier than he'd like. "I am sorry Bard. I was told... Hilda must have made a mistake. I will go…"
He turned and dove towards the door, and when he opened it…
…there was Hilda, with her hands on her hips. Galion was right behind her, with his arms crossed, looking equally determined.
"There –" Thranduil started to say.
"No; there is no mix-up."
"Did you – "
"Aye, we set you up."
"I shoul –"
"No, you're not going anywhere, and neither is Bard."
"You sai…"
"I lied."
"But…"
"No buts."
"I do not –"
"Don't care."
"I cannot –"
"Yes, you can."
"Please –"
Hilda let out an exasperated sigh. "You boys have got work this out, one way or another, and the longer you put it off, the worse it's going to be. So, turn right around, and get your arse back in there. Neither one of you are allowed out, until noon tomorrow; is that clear?"
"But Hilda – "
"Oh, good!" Hilda clapped her hands together, merrily. "So glad to see you boys understand!" She said with delighted sarcasm. Then her face became severe and would brook no argument. "I meant what I said: neither one of you are to show your faces until tomorrow. After lunch!"
And with that, she shoved the Elvenking backwards into the room, and gave him kind, but firm look.
"We love you both, very much," she said.
Then she slammed the door in his face.
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Hilda closed her eyes, and slumped against the carved wooden door. "Whew!"
"Do you think it will work?" Galion murmured.
"Stars, I hope so. If it doesn't, we're going to spend the rest of our lives, picking up the pieces. I don't know about you, but it's not something I want to be doing, when I'm old and grey."
"You are not old, and even if your hair turns grey, you will still be a formidable woman." The Chief Aide of the Woodland Realm told her, with a smile.
"Oh, pish; I've no wish to be formidable."
"You do not?"
"Course not," she said with a wink and a smile, "I want to be terrifying."
Galion couldn't help it. He began to laugh, and after such a stressful afternoon, it felt wonderful. He nodded his head toward the door, where their Kings were. "I hope we are doing the right thing, Hilda."
"Me, too, to be honest. I knew something was up with Bard, when he came out of the study yesterday; he just wasn't himself. And then, this morning - Valar… I still can't believe all that happened on the walkway - the look on Thranduil's face, when he came in from the Garden, scared the shit out of me! Pardon my Black Speech."
"He looked like a ghost." Galion shook his head.
"What did Bard look like, out there?"
"Just as bad as Thranduil."
"Poor things. I wish Percy was here; he always knew how to get Bard back on an even keel; especially after we lost Mattie."
"Really? What did he do?"
"When she died, Bard stuffed it all down, and got on with it, like Thranduil did. But, my Pers could tell when things were getting the better of him, so he'd grab him by the scruff of his neck, and haul him out into the middle of the Lake."
Galion considered this. "Bard expects too much from himself. He is not giving himself time enough to learn, nor is he allowing himself mistakes."
"Aye; tell me something I don't know." She shook her head. "We're all going to have to work with him on that. He's always taken so much on his shoulders. It's a good quality, to be sure, but he needs to learn to forgive himself."
"May I ask you something?" Galion was curious.
"Of course, you can, dear."
"What did Percy do with Bard when they were on the Lake?"
"He made Bard talk about it, whether he liked it or not, so he could sort himself out. Sometimes he'd would talk, other times be furious, and other times, just cry. Percy would just sit there and listen, until Bard would wear himself out. The first time Pers took him out though, he was so furious, he threatened to throw him out of the boat. Percy tricked him, you see."
"Tricked him?"
"Oh, aye! You think Bard would go willingly, if he knew?"
"I suppose not. Neither would Thranduil, so I am glad you handled him so well." Galion said. "What happened, when Bard threatened Percy?"
"Percy got right back in his face. He dared him to try it, and told him he'd be stranded out there if he did."
"What did Bard say to that?"
"It stopped him in his tracks. Percy knew he needed to vent, but wasn't going to let Bard say or do anything he'd regret; it would just bring guilt and shame on himself, and make things worse."
"Percy is a wise man."
"My Pers is a treasure, isn't he?" Hilda sighed. "Stars I miss him. Well, I think we can be on our way. If either one of them were going to try to escape, I think they'd have done it, by now. Did you remember the silencing spell?"
"Of course." Galion smiled, offered the lady his arm.
Hilda smiled, and pushed herself off the door and took Galion's arm, as they began to slowly walk toward the Royal Chambers. "You're no slouch, either, Galion. You know our Thranduil inside and out. That was a smart move, sending me in to talk to him. '
"It was a strategic move, My Lady. Many years ago, I made the mistake of allowing Thranduil to pull rank and turn me away, when I knew he needed help. You and your Percy had a much easier time with Bard."
"Oh, you think so?" Hilda huffed.
"May I remind you that Thranduil has dungeons?"
"Ah." She nodded. "Good point. He wouldn't do that, would he?"
"Well, he wouldn't dare do that with you." Galion chuckled. "I do know him like I know myself. I've loved him, and taken care of him, since the day he was born, and I was not going to take a chance, today. He was going to listen, or face your wrath."
"Well-played, love!" Hilda grinned.
"Thank you. Although I would have liked to watch my King try order you to go away." He smiled down at her, and added. "I knew you would do what was right, no matter how much he blustered and huffed."
Hilda's face fell. "That's just it, Galion; he wasn't blustery at all. He was… devastated. It just broke my heart to see him like that. " She nudged him. "That boy was like an abandoned child; and I could barely keep from crying, myself, he was so hurt."
Galion patted her hand. "Bard was the same way, when I found him in the garden. He was heartsick. I managed to let him cry it out, and tried to calm him, as much as I could, but I do not know how much I really helped him."
"The only ones who can really help, is each other, and I hope they find a way to see that, love." She sighed. "This has just got to work, or we're doomed here."
"I am praying earnestly, for them and for all of us."
When they stopped at the door to Thranduil's chambers, Hilda turned to him, with a worried look. "I don't want the children to have any inkling of this. If there's bad news, then we'll deal with it as it comes, but I don't think they need to be upset, unless it's absolutely necessary."
"I agree. What do we tell them?"
"Well, we won't lie; we'll just say that their Das got called away overnight for something important, that it's King's business, and no one can talk about it."
"That is perfect. I have promised Bard to take Sigrid aside and talk with her. Perhaps you could help?"
"Aye. She didn't deserve that tongue-lashing, but she needs to understand where she went wrong."
"I think she understands that now, but we will make sure she feels better about it. The children will be late today. Falarion made sure their ride will be long, to get them out of the way of the cleanup. Daeron has taken charge of the other children in the indoor arena for some physical exercise. The very young ones are with their mothers."
"Good idea. The exercise will do them a world of good. Now, you and I have the Little Bean all to ourselves."
"Let us hope tomorrow is better."
Hilda patted his arm. "We've done all we can, love. It's up to them, now, and if those two can't get out of their own way, there's nothing to be done."
Galion sighed, "No, there is not, but we shall wait, and hope, and look after our family, as best we can."
Hilda turned to look at him, with a reassuring smile. "You'll always have a friend in me, Galion, no matter what happens."
"As will you, My Lady." He kissed her hand, and they went in to see Tilda, and wait for the other children.
As Galion followed his good friend into the King's chambers, he resolved to send a message to Mithrandir, as soon as possible. He had questions, about Bard's behavior, that urgently needed answers. There was more at work here than just frustration and fear; he was sure of it.
Either way, insight from the Wizard would be needed, if Bard and Thranduil couldn't overcome their problems.
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Thranduil stood frozen to the spot, blinking at the heavy wooden door for several minutes.
Right at this moment, this was the last place on Middle Earth he wanted to be. He did not want to face Bard, because doing so would take away almost everything that meant the world to him... and he wasn't ready for it.
He wasn't ready to be left alone again...
He'd been so wrong! If this was a true Elven marriage, this wouldn't even be happening; nothing would break their bond, and his misunderstandings of Bard's feelings would never have gotten this far.
But it wasn't a "real" Elven marriage, was it? It was something completely different, and he had no idea whether their bond could be broken by force of will, or not. He tried to look inside of himself, to see if he could feel Bard, but there was so much hurt and fear, he couldn't feel anything else, right now. What if their fëas had truly sundered? What if they had never truly joined? Both could be true, from what Bard had said - he couldn't even repeat Bard's words in his mind, they were so painful and unexpected.
How could he have been so blind, to Bard's unhappiness? Why did he not know?
Thranduil was very tempted to just open the door and leave anyway, but he suspected Hilda and Galion were standing guard outside, preventing escape.
He heard no noise behind him, so Bard must hate this, too.
He sighed.
He couldn't stand here like this, forever.
There were changes that would need to take place. Valar, the thought of all that, squeezed his chest so hard he couldn't breathe… Of course, Bard would want to leave, and of course, he would want his children with him, in Dale. So many details that were the business of ending a relationship.
Oh, Valar… the children…
He had made such a mistake, and they will feel the worst of it. Through his own selfishness and short-sightedness, he had wrought heartache on children he loved dearly. How will he be able to live with that?
He swallowed down his anguish, sighed, then turned to go into the room. He saw a tray on the side board, filled with food and a pitcher of wine. He couldn't even think about food, but he needed something to dull the ache. He poured himself a glass, then went to sit in the other chair to look at the flames in the fireplace.
He never looked up at Bard once.
Thranduil heard him heave a sigh, and listened, as he, too got up to pour himself a drink. Even when Bard sat back down, he resolutely kept his eyes on the flames. His insides were shaking so badly, he wondered why his teeth didn't rattle.
"You look terrible." Bard whispered.
That was not what he expected to hear, and Thranduil looked over at him, before he could stop himself.
Bard was a mess. He looked unkempt and his hair was all over the place. His eyes were swollen and red, his face was splotchy, and streaked with dried tears.
"You do not look much better." Was the only response that came to him.
Again, the heavy silence fell between them, and seemed to go on endlessly.
Thranduil was still pretending to be engrossed in the flames, but he knew he could delay no longer. A calm, businesslike approach would be the best way to get through the perdition to come.
He took a breath, to collect himself, then began.
"Hilda is right, Bard. We must come to some sort of arrangement, if only for the children's sake. Of course, you will never have to worry about your people, I am committed to help Dale in every way possible, as I have said many times and you have my Royal Seal on that. I will continue to host and educate your people here, and make sure they are cared for, until the spring, and beyond. Nothing will change, as far as any agreements between the Northern Kingdoms. We cannot jeopardize the entire region, because you and I made an impulsive mistake."
He could sense Bard stiffen, and heard his sharp intake of breath. But he needed to finish this now, or he'd never be able to.
"I believe the children are better off and safer here, but if you want them with you, I will respect that, and I will not stand in your way. Please believe me, if you allow them to remain, they will still receive all the love and care as before. I would never hurt them. Rhys, of course is my ward, so he must remain, until Alun sends for him. If you choose to take the children – " He had to stop and catch his breath. He disguised his anguish by taking a large swallow of wine. "I would very much like to make sure Tilda has everything she needs in Dale, if you will allow it."
"Do you want me to leave, Thranduil?" Bard's voice was so quiet, it was barely audible.
Thranduil couldn't respond. It didn't matter what he wanted, it only mattered what was right, and he wasn't about to let Bard make another mistake, this time motivated by guilt. He desperately wanted Bard to stay, but not because he felt bad about revealing how he truly felt. Thranduil couldn't live like that. To be with someone who didn't really want him, who was only with him out of guilt or duty, or for the sake of the children, would be worse than all those years he spent alone.
"I will make other accommodations for myself, so the children are not disrupted. I think it will also be easier for Tilda to be in familiar surroundings until she is ready to be moved. Please, take all the time you need, for their sake. I will not pressure you."
He heard the exhaustion and distress in Bard's voice. "I'll do whatever you want, Thranduil. I really don't blame you, for hating me, right now."
Still not looking at him, Thranduil ran his hands over his face. "I simply did not know how you really felt, Bard. You are right, in what you said; I pushed you into Kingship, and it was wrong of me. You had no real chance to consider if that was what you wanted, and that was unfair. I did not set out to manipulate you, but I realize that I did, and I am sorry. I thought about what you said, and I understand why you feel trapped. I… never meant to -" He took a drink, and did his best to stop his hands from shaking.
Bard just stared at the floor with his drink in his hand, saying nothing.
Which said everything.
Another deep breath, then another, and he forced himself to go on. "I am… sorry, for all the burdens thrust upon you in such a short time. I should have seen how unhappy you were, and I did not, because it never occurred to me to really look, Bard. I am so...so sorry about your difficulties and struggles since our marriage. No one could predict what would happen to you, and for that reason alone, I should have insisted you take time to consider your decision. Something like that should be thought through for months, even years, not the very night the choice was put before you. I was selfish; I should have –"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bard put his face in his hand, Thranduil had to regroup, for a minute, before he could continue:
"We had been alone for many years; it was only natural to feel excitement and joy at physical closeness, and I can see I read too much into it. It was wrong of me to assume, without taking the time to be sure…" His voice broke completely, but he managed to say, "I am sorry, Bard. I do not want you to be unhappy, and I will do everything in my power to rectify my mistake."
He could not stop the tears, no matter how hard he tried, so he shielded his face and hid behind his fingers. He looked down and studied his wineglass, and how the flames shone through vine and leaf pattern etched into the glass. He made himself see how it reflected so beautifully on the dark, red wine. He told himself how the swirl of colors was interesting, and that he should try to paint this, but, he knew he wouldn't. After this, he'd never be able to see these glasses again.
Still, in this moment, these moving, sparkling colors were all he had, and he studied the flames through the cut glass, so intensely it seemed like he was putting himself under a spell. He had to: otherwise, he'd break down completely, and beg his husband to stay. Pressuring Bard would only make him feel guilty, and he wouldn't do that to either of them. He had to find the courage to allow Bard to find peace, again.
His heart started to pound, and although he was doing his best not to show it, his chest began to rise and fall, rapidly, despite himself.
Do not react. Show nothing. Don't make it hard for Bard. Do not react. Show nothing. Do not react. Show nothing. Look at the flames… See how they dance through the glass… Do not react. Show nothing…
He was so busy repeating this mantra to himself, he didn't notice Bard's movements, or register that there were arms snaking about his waist, or that there was face now buried in the curve of his hip.
The feel of warm trembling pulled him back into awareness. Bard's was crying, and if Thranduil thought his heart could not hurt more, he was wrong.
"Please Thranduil… I'm so sorry… Gods, you have to believe me; I know I said some terrible things, and I hurt you and I'm so sorry."
Thranduil took several deep breaths, and tried to stop him. "I understand, Bard. I know you do not wish to hurt me, but you were right to tell me the truth."
"No…no… don't –"
"You were right, Bard. I allowed my own feelings to push you into a life you might not have really wanted. I never let you take the time to really think it over, did I? I was selfish, and look what I've done to you! I hurt you, and you are the last person in the world…"
Bard's shoulders began to shake and Thranduil felt the arms tighten around him. "Please; don't send me away. I hurt you, I know… I made a mess of us, but… please, forgive me. You have to forgive me, or I can't..." the Bowman couldn't speak anymore.
Thranduil closed his eyes in anguish. "Oh, Bard… there is nothing to forgive. I know you wish you felt differently. I know you have tried hard to feel what you think is right for everyone, but you cannot hide the truth inside yourself. Look what happened today! You've been holding it in, and pretending, so you would not hurt my feelings, or upset the children. You try so hard to be everything everyone wants you to be, but you must be true to yourself! You have that right."
Bard's shoulders were shaking with sobs, and his head was still hidden. The warmth familiarity of Bard's embrace threatened to crumble what little control he had left. He would miss him. Stars…he would miss all of this…
"I will always be grateful that you wanted to spare me, but in the end, it come out anyway, did it not? You must do what is necessary to be happy, and you must let go of your guilt. You did the best you could; I know this. We must think of the children, Bard. They do not deserve to have a father who is so miserable."
Thranduil could barely understand Bard's words, now, because they were coming out as sobs. "I can't... Please… I hurt you, and I'm so sorry…" he whimpered. "Oh, gods… please…tell me you don't hate me, after all I said… I know I deserve it…. But I couldn't survive it if…"
Thranduil's hands were trembling so badly, he barely managed to get his wineglass on the side table. They shook as they hovered over Bard's head, and his fingers curled up for a moment, before he opened his fists, and finally allowed his fingers to rest among Bards beautiful black curls.
"Of course, I do not hate you, Bard. I love you enough to let you go, if that is best."
Bard whispered. "Please… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" he said, between sobs.
Thranduil eyes were still closed tightly. "I know you feel guilty, but please; do not. I know you do not want to go back to being alone, and neither do I, but that is not a good enough reason to stay with me, and be unhappy. Bard, I cannot live like that, and I know you cannot, either. We must have the courage to admit it and…"
"No! NO!" he cried. "Don't do this!" Bard grabbed Thranduil's hands and pressed them over his own heart, pushing into him to the point of pain, his words came out between uneven gasps.
"I… love you… my life with you… gods… I love our family… and our home, but even if we didn't have any of that, Thranduil…I would still love you. You know me, Thranduil. You know me! It doesn't matter what the Valar wanted… or what Mírelen or even Mattie wants us to do…. It doesn't matter what the children want, either… All that matters," Bard sobbed, and pushed into his chest again, and squeezed his hands. "all I know, is that… I love you, with all my heart, Thranduil... You are my home. My h-home is here!" He pushed into Thranduil's chest again. "Please… tell me I didn't lose you... I'd have n-nothing left! Nothing! Bloody fuck, I made this such a mess!"
Bard's words were frantic, hysterical. "I can't go back to being alone," he gasped a few times, "...I can't have any kind of life if you d-don't want me anymore... Tell me you still feel me! Please, tell me it's not too late. Tell me I didn't ruin us. Oh, gods…"
"Bard…" Thranduil opened his eyes, and for the first time since they were in the garden, they really looked into each other's eyes. Bard's tear-streaked face was pale from guilt, torment and fear, but he could also see something else…
Bard squeezed his hands again, and begged him, as he pushed into Thranduil's heart, and he could barely gasp out the frenzied words, as he begged. "Please... t-tell me I'm still… in there… you have to still feel me! I don't know what to do… tell me what to do… help me, please… Oh, Valar, please, please love me… You have to love me, or I c-can't…"
Bard couldn't talk anymore. He lowered his head again and curled into himself as his body was racked with his sobs, and he gripped Thranduil's hands so hard, they were crushing his fingers.