Chapter Thirty

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SUMMARY: Bard and Thranduil have a Very Good Day.

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The Woodland Realm, 23rd of February; 2942, T.A.

The day had finally, finally come - Tilda could leave her room!

Daeron came earlier than usual this morning, to examined her, then said, "You are progressing nicely, My Lady. How would you like to come out and join everyone for breakfast?"

"I can?" Tilda squealed. "Really?"

"Yes. There will be no more pink gowns or masks."

"Will you carry me?"

Bard came in just then. "We've got something better. Uncle Percy and King Dáin sent something just for you."

"What is it?" The little girl asked.

Thranduil brought in her new wheelchair. "What do you think, Tithen Pen? Shall we give it a try?" He smiled at her as he as he steered it into the room.

Bard came over to pick her up. "Come on, Beanie. Up you go."

In a few minutes, she was settled in, with a small blanket across her legs, and Charlotte in her lap. Bard suggested she bring all her toys, but Tilda looked at him seriously.

"Meriel and Daisy need to make friends, Da."

"Ah. My mistake, sorry." He grinned, not just because of her whimsy, but because more and more, she was talking in full sentences! More and more, she was coming back to them.

Bard tucked her in some more. "Are you comfortable, Little Bean? Do you need a pillow behind your back?"

"I feel good, Da!"

"Wonderful. I hope you're hungry; we've got a little surprise for you."

Bard followed them as Thranduil steered Tilda into the Living/Dining area, where she was greeted with cheers from her family. There decorations and the boys had made her a banner that said, 'Welcome Back Tilda.' Ribbons and streamers were strung everywhere, and Sigrid and Hilda stood shoulder to shoulder, grinning madly.

"We missed you out here, Til!" Bain said. "Do you like your new chair?"

"Aye! I can go places!"

"Yes, you can lovey." Hilda reached down and kissed her cheek. "And look! You can see our faces again! Or did you like the painted smiles, better?"

"This is better." Tilda smiled, and hugged Charlotte.

"Are you sure?" Bain said, and he and Rhys made silly faces at her, to make her laugh.

"Come on, let's eat!" Rhys said with a smile.

Thranduil positioned Tilda at the head of the table with he and Bard on the other side. They insisted Daeron join the celebration, so he sat next to Sigrid, and soon, the breakfast party was underway.

The surprise didn't end with the chair. The smithies of the Woodland Realm had fashioned a special set of silverware for Tilda. They had thick wooden handles, carved specially to help her grip them herself, and they even made her a cup with handles on each side, so she could hold her own drink. Despite their bulk, they were very light so that her hands wouldn't get tired.

"I can do it myself, now!" She said.

"Yes. It was a nice surprise, was it not? We will have to send them a Thank You."

"Aye!"

Between her two fathers, Tilda managed a hearty breakfast, and enjoyed the company even more. She even asked for a third pancake, but wanted jam on it, instead of syrup.

Thranduil stood and held up his glass of juice. "I propose a toast. To our lovely Tilda, we are thankful to all the Valar you are with us, again."

"To Tilda!" they all said together, and she just beamed around at them, as they took a drink and applauded.

"I'm glad I'm out here, too." She said, when asked to give a speech. "And I like seeing your faces."

"And I am glad, also. You worked very hard, so you can be strong enough. Do you see?" Thranduil reminded her, "You are making progress. You can even stand on your feet a bit longer, as well."

"That is true, My Lady." Daeron added. "You are finding it easier to color the pictures your Ada has made for you, and you are able to feed yourself better." This was met with cheers and applause.

"And I can remember more things!"

That called for another round of applause.

"Yes, you can, love." Bard kissed her hand. "We're all so proud of you."

"I love you, Da." Tilda told him.

"Oh, Beanie," Bard put his hand on his heart. "I love you more. Always."

Soon, it was time for the children to go to school, and Meriel arrived for Tilda's daily lessons.

"Do you like being out and about, My Lady?" Meriel smiled down at her. "You look very happy."

"Aye." Tilda smiled, then tried to shift a little in the chair.

Bard was concerned. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"Only a little."

Bard quickly folded up a small blanket and put it behind her back. "You're not used to sitting up like this, so your back will need to get stronger, too. Just make sure you always tell us when you feel bad, so we can help, yeah?"

"I will."

"We do not want you to overdo it and hurt yourself, Tilda. Day by day, you will get used to it." Meriel smiled at her. "We can come back out for lunch, does that sound like fun? Now, I want to get your bath done, and we can get your exercises finished. I think I will give you a massage with Athelas oil, to keep away any soreness."

Tilda nodded. "But I'll be out here, more?"

"Yes, you will. I have something else for you, too." She held out a small pink outfit. "This is a swimming outfit. Daeron tells me you are ready for us to do some exercises in your Ada's pool! Will that not be fun?"

"Goodie!" Tilda clapped her hands.

Bard tousled her hair. "We've got to get a little work done, but we'll be back later. Have you shown Meriel your new doll?"

Tilda looked excited. "I will." She looked up at the Elleth. "I missed you."

"I am sorry for that, but I had a friend who was sick."

"Ada and Da brought me a doll."

"They did?"

"Aye. She's pretty."

The Elf smiled. "Did you give her a name?"

Tilda nodded eagerly. "I named her Meriel, because she looks like you!"

Thranduil leaned down to kiss her cheek. "We must get some things done, Tithen pen, but your Auntie Hil will be back soon."

Bard blew a raspberry in her neck, and she giggled. "See you soon, sweetheart."

"Bye, Da; bye Ada!" She said, as Meriel wheeled her back to the nursery.

Thranduil, of course knew what Bard was feeling. "Just think, Meleth nîn. When you come back in two weeks, she will be even better."

All Bard could do was sigh, and put on a brave face. "She will. She has to."

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The two Kings made their way through the Palace to meet with the Gruffudd and his men. They were all in their meeting room, only instead of cards and game boards on the table, there were papers and lists.

"Hello, Gruffudd, making progress, I see." Bard went up to shake his hand. Gruffudd grabbed his crutches and stood to bow and pay his respects. At the same time, all the men who were able, stood and did the same.

"You know King Thranduil, of course?"

"Can't say we've been properly introduced, yet, but it's a pleasure to meet you, My Lord." Thranduil was pleased to see the respect his husband garnered, though he knew Bard still wasn't quite used to people bowing and scraping to him. The Elvenking nodded his head and said, "It is a great pleasure to meet you, and I am impressed with your willingness to contribute to Dale, as is Lord Bard."

"Thank you, My Lord." Gruffudd said, as he sat down again.

So, they sat down with the men, and discussed what supplies will be needed, and Thranduil told them of the work area he planned to set up nearby. After roughly an hour, Bard and Thranduil stood up to leave.

"I'll be returning to Dale on the morrow, but I'll be back in two weeks for a short visit, so I'll try to pop in to see how you are all faring. If you could prepare regular progress reports, I'd appreciate it. Also, as I'm sure you've heard, Old Ben is here this week, and he plans to see you, too. I'm not sure when; last I saw him, he only had eyes for little Darryn and Rhian."

"Aye, I don't doubt it. Ben and his missus've been looking out for her since she was a wee one. She's better of now, and so is the little lad."

The Elvenking agreed, then said, "I am happy to inform you that that several casks of ale have arrived from Erebor. We also found equipment to brew your own, if you wish. If you start now, the first batches can be ready to send to Dale, if you wish. You may also consider this equipment a gift, to open a brewery there.

Gruffudd's eyes lit up. "That's good news indeed, My Lord." He looked across the table one of the younger men. "Roderic! Looks like you're in business, again!"

The dark-haired man, who was still using a cane, grinned. "Just tell me where, My Lord."

Thranduil nodded to Rod. "I can send someone to show you tomorrow, if it is convenient."

"Aye. Sounds good to me, My Lord. I used to run the best pub in Laketown."

Bard nodded. "That you did, Rod. I always enjoyed a pint or two when I came back from the river."

"You were a good customer, Lord Bard." Rod turned to Thranduil. "It'll feel good to be back to work and be useful. Me and my missus appreciate it. We'll be having our third babinod come June, so I'll need a way to support them."

"When you get back in the spring," Bard instructed, "make sure you meet with Alun, to help you get the business, set up, but I would ask you, when the Pub is up and running, to keep your policy of cutting off customers when they've had too much."

"Of course, My Lord. That's always been an ironclad rule in my establishment. Saved me a load of trouble, through the years."

"How are your boys, Rod?"

"Doing real well in the school you and Lord Thranduil set up; we're real proud of them. They both say they want to join Dale's Army, when they get older. I'm all for them wanting to protect the city like that, but I confess the missus is nervous at the thought."

Thranduil could understand that. "My son and daughter are soldiers, and I salute your courage. People often forget that families of our troops serve their country, too. You and your wife are worthy of as much praise as your sons will be."

"Thank you, Lord Thranduil." The man was touched.

Thranduil told the men that the Elven carpenters would be by tomorrow, to coordinate their efforts, then he and Bard got up to leave.

They stopped at the school to check on the children's progress, but they also needed to speak with Bronwyn and Daeron. The guard was standing near the door by their table, and Bronwyn was leaning over Rhys, showing him a correction to a maths problem.

After motioning for them to step outside, Thranduil asked Bronwyn. "Mistress, I wish to know how the children are coping with the incident on the walkway. Are they distressed at all?"

"I'm afraid the older kids saw the woman jump. The tables with the younger students are farther in the back by the kitchens, so they were shielded, thank the Stars. Daeron was at the door and as soon as he saw the scuffle, he ordered the doors shut, in case she got loose, but the kids were looking in the direction of his shout and saw the whole thing; I'm sorry, My Lord."

Bard shook his head. "It's no one's fault. There was no time to do anything else. How are the children with it?"

"Most are fairly matter-of-fact, but Hilda and I have arranged for the students to see someone to talk to, if they need to. We've been telling them that Miss Iola was very ill, and wasn't thinking right, and it was an unfortunate accident. It seems to help, and we made sure to move on with a normal routine, and keep their minds occupied. Children have a gift for getting on with things."

Thranduil nodded to her, "That is good to hear, Mistress."

"If you'll excuse me, My Lord, I must be getting back to my class. They're good kids, but you can't take your eyes off them for long." She smiled.

"Of course, and thank you." She curtsied to Bard and Thranduil and went back inside.

Daeron looked guilty. "I apologize for Sigrid leaving the Dining Hall, My Lord. My first duty was to protect the Prince and Princess, and I failed."

Thranduil considered the Guardian's words. "You did assign, what you assumed to be, a capable subordinate to take over, did you not?"

"Yes, My Lord. But it is ultimately my responsibility to make sure the children are safe and protected at all times. Lady Sigrid should have never made it out of there, even if she had to be physically restrained."

"Daeron, your service to my family has been exemplary, and Dior and Elion are alive thanks in part to your efforts." Thranduil assured him. "Your Sargent was given a task, at which he failed miserably. Has he been disciplined?"

"Yes, My Lord. He was brought before Captain Adamar who suspended him without pay. He is also considering a demotion."

"Good. I will meet with you, Adamar, and this officer in my office later this week. I will not tolerate any failure like this. Not when it comes to the Royal Family."

"Yes, My Lord. We are at your convenience."

"Galion will notify you, as to my availability."

Bard spoke up. "May I say something, Thranduil?"

"Of course."

"Sigrid is just as much at fault as your officer. Although she regrets her impulsive behavior, I want her to formally apologize to all involved, for her mistake. In fact, if any of the children disregard their protection, I want them to be disciplined thus. They must be made to understand the seriousness of this; it could save their lives, one day."

Thranduil agreed, then turned to Daeron. "Lieutenant, I hold you blameless in this matter. You have shown nothing but the utmost dedication to your duties, and you should be able to depend upon your subordinates, as needed. In addition, Lady Sigrid will meet with you, your father and this Guard to make amends."

Bard was confused. "Is Captain Adamar your father?"

"He is, My Lord. He is a Captain in charge of the Palace and all the Gates." Daeron said, proudly.

"Really? I know Indis is your Aunt, but have I met your mother?"

"You do not see her much, My Lord, but you have eaten her cooking. She runs the kitchens in the Palace, and she has personally made the special treats to tempt Lady Tilda's appetite."

"Idril has been in charge of the Royal Family's meals for centuries." Thranduil told Bard. "I do not think you have been introduced, but you know what she looks like, as Idril and Indis are identical twins."

"Really? That explains why you and Turamarth look so much alike."

"We grew up together like brothers; he and I are very close." The Guard told him. "If you will excuse me, My Lord, I do not wish to be away from my duty for very long."

Bard nodded. "We'll either be in Thranduil's study, or in with Tilda. But first, can I ask the two of you a question?" Bard looked pensive.

"Of course, My Lord." Daeron said, and Thranduil nodded.

"I don't know how I'm able to…connect like I do when I had my hands on Elion, and even Rhian. I thought it was just a matter of lending my strength to Thranduil, because we are bond-mates, but I could do it with you, and Elénaril, too! It's really me doing it and I don't understand."

Thranduil and Daeron looked at each other, and they smiled.

"Do wish to tell him, or shall I, My Lord?"

"I think you should." Thranduil said. "If I tell him, he may think I am just flattering him."

Daeron grinned, then said to Bard. "My Lord, there is an ancient prophecy that says Kings have a power to heal. The world of Men regards this as an old wives' tale, but there is much truth to it."

"A prophecy? What exactly does it say?"

"'The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known.'"

"Really?"

"Yes, My Lord. I do not know to what extent you are gifted, as I do not know your heritage beyond that of Garon the Founder. It is known to Elves that living among the Dúnedain are those of the line Númenor, and they also possess such gifts, because their line can be traced back to Lord Elrond's twin brother, Elros, who chose the fate of Men. The Stewards of Gondor are also descended from Númenoreans, as well as possess Elvish blood. Your own bloodlines go back to the first Prince of Ithilien, whose mother was Mithrellas, Elf Maiden on Nimrodel."

Bard looked at Thranduil with wide eyes. "Do you think that's true?"

"I do. When you are assisting an Elf in the Healing process, you are a true participant; I have felt your power; although it is not nearly as strong as mine, it is nonetheless present."

"Do you think that's why Dior's heart started again when I pounded it?"

"Perhaps, although it is more likely to be a serendipitous incident." Thranduil looked upon his husband fondly, then he nodded to Daeron. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Galion will contact you to arrange the meeting. You are dismissed."

The Guard saluted them both, and returned to his duties.

As he and Bard made their way to their quarters, Bard said, "So…I'm a healer, too?"

"So it would seem, and that has nothing to do with our marriage, Meleth nîn. You are a King."

Bard pondered all this. "You were right, that day we spoke after the Battle; I was King the minute I set foot in Dale to claim it. Everyone knew it but me; you were just the poor, unfortunate soul who had to convince me it was so."

Thranduil smirked and raise his eyebrow at his husband. "So, have you learned your lesson?"

"What lesson?"

"What happens to a man who slays a Dragon, loses his home, leads refugees to his ancestor's Kingdom, fights a terrible Battle, falls in love and marries an Elf, thereby becoming Immortal, in just a matter of weeks." Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "Next time, you will think twice, will you not?"

"Aye." Bard shook his head and grinned. "Next time I inherit a Black Arrow, into the Lake it goes."

They both laughed at each other, before Thranduil said, "Your life is not destined to be a quiet one, and since I met you, mine has been chaotic."

"True," Bard leaned in to whisper, "but there have been a few compensations, don't you think?"

"Such as?"

"We have a good time in bed. And the dressing room. And your office…"

Thranduil slid a sideways glance at Bard, "Hmmm…the sex is outstanding... I think it would behoove me to accept the chaos, do you not think?"

"Well, maybe not accept, but I think you could learn to live with it, if you tried."

"I could."

Bard laughed, but then stopped and turned to him. "I don't regret becoming a King, Thranduil. I meant what I said; even if I had to do it alone, I would still accept the responsibility" He put his hand on Thranduil's chest. "And I don't regret marrying you. I meant what I said about that, too. I was in love with you, and I wanted you, even before we understood what would happen. In fact, it's better now, because you'll never have to worry about separating from me."

Thranduil looked deeply into his eyes, and covered Bard's hand with his own. "And I meant what I said, Meleth nîn. You are my forever, and I am yours."

Bard looked at him, only half-joking, "So, if you can just forget every single word that came out of my mouth out there in the garden..."

"I wish I could, but perhaps that is best that we cannot, for two very important reasons."

"What would those be?"

"The fear of it happening again will teach us restraint."

A sigh came from Bard. "That's true. What about the second part?"

"We had a nice respite from the world, which we both needed, and the sex was…" Thranduil grinned, slyly. "extraordinary."

"Ooh... the 'make-up sex.'"

"Is that what Men call it?"

"Aye."

They both laughed, as they passed the suite they had been thrown into earlier that week.

"We should make a point to get away, for a day or two each month." Bard mused, "so we can lie around naked and just be with each other."

"I like the way you think, Bowman."

Bard leaned closer and nudged him. "That's 'King Bowman,' to you."