10

Chapter Thirty-Six

SUMMARY: Daeron finally musters the courage to have a frank discussion with his King.

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The Woodland Realm; 10th of March, 2942, T.A.

Daeron closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, then knocked on the door.

"Neledho!" Thranduil called, then he smiled at the Guardian, when he entered the room.

"Good morning, Daeron. Please, close the door and sit down." Thranduil got up and closed the door between his and Galion's study, "Now, you requested to speak with me privately? Is there something wrong? Are the children all right?"

"They are fine, Sire. Another guard is with them at the school." Daeron looked a bit nervous.

"Is it something to do with Tilda? You said nothing after you examined her yesterday; I took that to mean she is progressing."

Daeron was quick to reassure him, "I did not find anything amiss. She is doing wonderfully. I know it can be distressing to see her in her wheelchair, but the mobility is doing much to lift her mood."

"She enjoyed her trips around the Palace with Lord Percy, and you are correct - the freedom has done just as much good for her as all her rest and exercises. Speaking of that, does she enjoy the bars we set up in her room?" Four days ago, Daeron designed a set of parallel bars to be adjusted to her small stature, to encourage her to walk.

"She was frustrated at first; it is hard to relearn a movement one takes for granted. We remind her that we need to teach her brain to tell her legs what to do again."

"What progress has she made with this?"

Daeron smiled. "I am not permitted to tell you, My Lord. Lady Tilda has sworn me to secrecy, so that she may surprise you and Lord Bard when he arrives."

Thranduil smiled. "This is wonderful news, and a surprise I eagerly look forward to. If you require any more equipment built, you have my permission to proceed. We can set up one of the empty suites near the end of the hall for this."

"Thank you, My Lord."

Thranduil grew thoughtful for a few minutes. "I am determined to accept my child in whatever capacity she has been given back to us, but until I know for certain that it will not be a complete recovery, I will settle for nothing less."

"I wish for the same, and I will do my best to make that happen."

"How are Sigrid and Bain? Do you see any signs of distress, or unhappiness, now that their father has returned to Dale?"

"Of course, they miss their father, My Lord, but it did them a world of good when Lord Bard came. Sigrid seems determined to be strong, like always. She does have moments of melancholy, but I see her shake herself out of it, and occupy herself with something else."

The Elvenking smiled. "That is our Sigrid. I will make time to speak with her, in case she needs to talk. What about Bain?"

"Bain, I believe, is working out his distress with physical activity. This is a good outlet, plus, I think he confides in Rhys quite a bit, and that friendship is helping them both. It will be good for Rhys to see his father again, tomorrow."

"Oh?" Thranduil put his elbows on his desk. "Has he said anything?"

"Not overtly. The other children do not press him for information about his family so much anymore, but I believe he's been affected by the incident more than he wants to let on. I think Bain sees it too. I have asked Rhys if he needed to talk, and he just says that we should be worried about Tilda, not him."

"Those two boys remind me of Commander Feren and myself, when were young. I see great things for them, if their friendship continues. You have the same type of companionship with your cousin, Turamarth."

"I do, and I am very fortunate."

Thranduil laughed. "I did not think anyone could cause more trouble than Feren and me, but you and your cousin disproved that theory. The Palace still bears evidence of that."

"I must admit, setting the kitchens on fire was a spectacular stunt. I was sure I could follow my mother's recipe for raspberry tarts. It looked so simple, when she did it."

"Did Idril ever forgive you for the scorch marks on the ceiling?"

"Not really. She brings it up, when she wants me to feel guilty about something." Daeron gave a wry smile. "My aunt does the same with Turamarth."

"Mothers of all races do that, I am afraid." Thranduil chuckled. "My Naneth learned to brace herself, whenever Galion approached her with reports of our latest misadventure. King Oropher was more amused than anything. He and Galion grew up together, as well, and they caused their own share of trouble back in Doriath." Thranduil laughed. "Your father, Adamar, was not a well-behaved elfling, either."

"I feel very blessed to have my parents." Daeron mused. Then, he realized what he said, and felt guilty. "I am sorry, My Lord. I did not mean to –"

Thranduil raised his hand, to stop his line of thinking. "It is fine. I have every confidence that my parents are in Valinor waiting for me, and they are happy there. You take pleasure in your family, and that is never something to feel guilty about."

"Thank you, My Lord," the Guard looked uncomfortable.

"I have enjoyed reminiscing, and to hear how the children are doing, but I do not think that is the real reason you wanted to see me, Mellon nîn."

"It is a… personal matter, My Lord, and I need your guidance, in this matter, as it involves someone under your care."

"Has something happened?"

"Not exactly, but I do not wish to hurt anyone…"

Thranduil leaned back in his chair. He'd been expecting this. "What is it?"

"It is Rhian, My Lord. I am glad I was able to help her…"

"Daeron, you saved her life, and the life of the infant. That goes far beyond 'helping."

"Thank you, My Lord; I appreciate your confidence." The Elf looked downward.

"Is Rhian well?"

"She is doing very well, overall. She was overjoyed at the adoption, and I see a gifted young woman emerge from the depths of all her suffering."

"I have noticed this, as well. I am very happy for her." Thranduil tilted his head. "Why then, do you still look concerned?"

"It is nothing Rhian is doing… It is just that… something has developed, I think, and I do not know what to do about it. It is a personal matter, and I would like your advice. Rhian is under your personal protection, and I want to…" Daeron was at a loss for words.

"She is also under Ben of Dale's." Thranduil reminded him. "But, you are correct, my duty to her will not stop until she returns to her home in the spring."

"Lord Ben is a good man, and I am glad she will have a protector."

"Is this dilemma regarding something you have done, or not done?" Thranduil was concerned. "Has something happened to cause a problem between the two of you?"

"Maybe…" Daeron looked at him in alarm. "There is a problem, but I assure you, she is blameless, and she is unaware of any of it; it is me, and I cannot cause her hurt."

Thranduil steepled his hands on the desk. "I do not for one moment believe you would knowingly or willfully hurt that girl." He already had an idea of what Daeron wanted to say, but wanted to see how the Guard would handle it. "Whatever is concerning you, Daeron, please have faith in me as not only your King, but as your friend. I do not doubt you. But, please, you must tell me what this is, so I can try to help you."

Daeron took a deep breath, and began:

"Rhian sees me only as a friend, My Lord. This is exactly how she should see me, and no more. Especially not now. I am sure Mistress Hannah is watching us both for any sign of…irregularity, as she should, My Lord! I would never hurt Rhian."

"Daeron? Do you care for the girl?"

The Guard swallowed. "I tried not to dwell on it, because I can do nothing about it. My regard for her has turned into affection, and I think it might be beyond that." Daeron admitted, looking confused.

"Can you describe your feelings?" Thranduil probed, gently.

"When I first saw her, she was in a great deal of pain, and she was frightened and vulnerable. Who would not want to help her? I thought my concern was only from a Healer's point of view - she reminded me of that woman in Dale who was murdered by her husband, and the baby girl. Do you recall, My Lord, when Girion had the man executed?"

"Yes, I do. I also remember you took the woman's death hard, but we were concerned over the despair you felt over the loss of her unborn infant."

"Yes." Daeron's voice trailed off. "I did mourn; a life, a fëa, died, before she ever had a chance to ever live. It shook my faith, in a lot of things."

Thranduil could understand that. "That happens to all of us, at one time or another." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his long legs. "Perhaps that is why you were drawn to Rhian. You saw her in the same situation, and it touched you. You lost the other patient and her child, and did not want to see it happen again."

"I know you are correct. Perhaps I was looking to right some sort of wrong. I saw the signs, especially of rape in Rhian, and it was upsetting to be sure. When I met her father, Phylip I saw that he had no real love or concern for her. He treated her like a lowly servant. It made me angry, and I knew I had to help her."

"Daeron, your role in her life, has been a friend, but also a savior. There is nothing wrong with that; she needed help desperately, and you did save her, and the child. It is natural to feel good about oneself when genuinely making a difference in a person's life. It can be a heady feeling, but you mustn't take that seriously."

The Guard nodded, "I agree, My Lord, but... I believe my feelings are much deeper than that, and I am confused. I do not understand how this could be!"

"When you were here, last week, for the adoption ceremony, I did notice your careful demeanor toward her. No," he wanted to reassure the Guard, "you were not overt in your feelings, nor were you in your caution. I could sense it, but I assure you; no one else did."

"But I did not mean for this to happen…" Daeron put his face in his hands. "I cannot be thinking of such things."

"Can you tell me why not?" Thranduil asked him. He didn't disagree with the Elf, but he wanted to know what he thought about it, before rendering his judgement.

"This is not the time to explore those feelings!" The Elf became agitated. "Even if I did understand how it could be thus, I cannot allow myself to go that far, My Lord. She is not strong enough! She has much to overcome before she feels whole again, if that's even possible."

"Rhian grows stronger every day." Thranduil laced his fingers together in his lap. "Her true self is beginning to emerge, and I foresee she will grow into strong confident woman, under the right circumstances."

Daeron considered this for a moment or two, then said, "She is better, and she's learning how to be happy, but I want her to do this for herself and her son. As much as I want to help her, I cannot allow her to use me as a motivation to get better. I cannot be her ultimate goal, My Lord, or she will get so caught up in a romantic ideal, that she will hide in that, rather than face the struggles ahead. She's just not ready to be thinking of anything but learning how to be herself." The Guard looked stricken. "I could hurt her, without meaning to, and I would never forgive myself."

"Do you think she is developing romantic feelings for you?"

"No, I do not. And I am glad of it. But, My Lord, even if she were ready for such a thing, she is a human, and I am an Elf! How can this even be? What would happen to me, or her, if we joined in marriage?"

The Elvenking nodded. "I understand your concerns. As far as an Elf falling in love with someone of another race," he smiled, "might I remind you of my own recent marriage, and the situation between Tauriel and the Dwarf Prince? It is not so farfetched. It can happen, Daeron, so do not be concerned with that, but timing of all this, could make things complicated."

The Elven Guard put his face in his hands. "I feel terrible about this. Suppose we do end up together, and then she dies, as the race of Men do? If I have to give up my Immortality, or if I fade when she dies, this affects my commitment to Lord Bard, and both Kingdoms. I do not want to jeopardize anyone's safety, or walk away from my duties... This is why I came to you."

Daeron's eyes filled, and his voice wavered. "You and Lord Bard were given a special gift from the Valar and only they know all the purposes behind it. I do not question that, nor do I possess the arrogance to believe I am entitled to the same privilege. I feel…." The Guard swallowed, and his voice shook. "I felt something, the very first moment, when I put my hand on her wrist, to help her carry the buckets of water. It felt… familiar somehow, like I had know her before. I do not understand it, and I am afraid to face it. Even if she had not been brutalized, it has only been a matter of months since her husband passed; it is much too soon."

"Daeron. Look at me." Thranduil said, and after a few seconds, troubled green eyes turned to him. Thranduil got up, and came around the desk to sit beside him. He put a reassuring hand on Daeron's shoulder, and said, "You are wise to consider these things, my friend, and your concern speaks to your honor and your quality. This is why I would trust no other with the personal safety of my husband, or our children.

"At this point, let us not be concerned with the differences within our races. The most important factor is this: Rhian is slowly coming into her own, but you are correct in that she needs more time. She barely knows what life is, or even who she is. She has been too busy trying to survive her wretched life, to grow and mature. Although she is three years younger, in many ways, Lady Sigrid is older, because she was allowed the room and safety to grow and develop."

Daeron nodded his agreement. "Rhian is happier, but she still lacks a great deal of confidence in herself, and only time and care can help with that." He looked at Thranduil intensely. "My Lord, have you observed any change, in her demeanor toward me?"

"No, I have not, and if Hannah noticed anything, she would come to me right away, so please; do not worry." At Daeron's alarmed look, he quickly added. "The midwife holds you in high regard, but it is her job to watch out for impediments to her patient's progress. Has your Aunt Indis spoken to you about it?"

"I think Indis might suspect my feelings; she has known me since I was born, but I have been very careful."

"What about your parents? Surely they have noticed your melancholy."

"I have spoken frankly with them, and they agreed I should seek your advice."

"They have no concerns that Rhian is human?"

"My parents are worried for me, but they like Rhian and Darryn very much, and are determined to support my choice, if I am able to make it."

"That does not surprise me, but I am pleased to hear it, nonetheless. Daeron, should it come to pass that Rhian chooses you, and you are required to accept the gift of Men, I would never expect you to refuse love and a lifetime of happiness, because of duty or obligation. We will find a way to make it all work, I promise you. For now, I advise this: Do not avoid her outright. She could see it as a rejection, and could cause harm to her confidence. Do absolutely nothing that could be interpreted as a romantic advance. Are you able to discipline yourself to do this?" Thranduil studied him carefully.

"I can, My Lord. I will." The Guard sat up straight.

"When you visit Rhian, make sure Indis or Hannah is always present, and keep any conversation light and friendly. Keep your visits brief, and limit them to no more than once a week. They already know you are busy working with Tilda, so keep using that excuse."

The Guard looked terrified. "Must I tell Mistress Hannah of my feelings?"

Thranduil thought this over for a moment. "If your words or actions give no evidence of your feelings, I do not believe we need alert Hannah. If you find you cannot contain them, then you must come and see me, right away, and we will consider alternatives, such as a temporary assignment elsewhere, to give you both some time."

"What if Mistress Hannah notices my regard for her?"

"Then she would speak with me, and we would deal with it the same way. As long as her patient is unaffected, I think you are entitled to some privacy." He gave his friend a reassuring smile. "You have done nothing wrong, Mellon nin. Nothing. I am not angry or upset with you; please be at peace."

"Thank you, My Lord."

"Daeron," Thranduil said, gently, "she may never return your feelings, and go on to marry another. Have you considered that?"

The Guard swallowed, and looked down at his hands. "I have," he said, very quietly. "I think about it all the time."

Thranduil was concerned for his Guard. " I wish I could ease you, but all will be revealed in the fullness of time, Mellon nîn. For now, we wait, and in the meantime, I will try and find some answers for you. Whatever happens, Daeron, I will help you, as much as possible. You will not face this alone."

Daeron nodded, wiped his eyes. "Thank you, My Lord." He said, with a rough voice.

"No thanks are needed. I was in your shoes, at one time, and I know how agonizing it can be."

The Guard looked at him with wide eyes. "You do?"

"Oh, yes. When I first saw my wife in Rivendell, I fell in love with her instantly, but she did not return my feelings at all, and I had no idea whether she ever would. It was a terrible time."

"May I ask what happened?"

"I wrote her, and she was…less than impressed. I visited Lord Elrond's home several times over the next several years, and my feelings only grew stronger, yet she put me off, and showed no interest." He laughed. "She did not like me very much, at first. If she had rejected me and married another, I would not have taken any wife."

"But, she did marry you." Daeron said, hopefully.

"Yes, thank the Stars. But that was only after I learned how to share the deepest parts of myself with her. The War of the Last Alliance was not an easy thing to recover from, so it took a tremendous effort for me to be open. In this," he smiled at the Guard, "you have an enormous advantage. You have never, to my recollection struggled with such things as grief," he grinned, "or shyness."

"But that still does not mean Rhian will grow to love me."

"I am afraid there is no guarantee with matters of the heart. We all fall victim to that beautiful agony, at one time or another. Sometimes it works out, and sometimes it simply does not. All we can do is wait. In the meantime, your secret is safe with me, and if you need to talk again, I am here."

Daeron nodded, then stood up with a sigh. "Thank you, My Lord. You have helped a great deal."

"Take the day off. You have been working very hard, and I think you need some time to yourself; that is an order, Lieutenant." Thranduil told him, with a sympathetic smile. "I am also going to send you to Dale, with Lord Bard, and you are to spend two weeks there. You will accompany him when he returns."

"But what about Lady Tilda?"

"She is doing well, as you say. Meriel is an excellent Healer, and I also have Elénaril at my disposal. I can have Ivran or Ruvyn take over your duties with the children and your classes for the boys."

"I do not wish to shirk my duties -"

Thranduil gave him a concerned look. "You need some time away, Daeron, so go spend some time with your cousin. Whether or not you choose to confide in him, the change of scenery will do you good."

The Guard saluted. "Thank you, My Lord."

.

Daeron walked through the Halls in a daze. He did feel a little better, after speaking frankly with the King, and he had no real reason to despair, just yet. The King's advice was sound, and his promise to help meant a great deal.

But when he sat in the King's office, to speak openly for the first time, about his affection for Rhian, he knew his fate was sealed, for good or for ill.

With every word out of his mouth, he understood, that he was deeply in love with this beautiful girl from Laketown, and he had been, since that first moment he felt her fëa. There was a strong reaction in him, and he was truthful with Lord Thranduil, when he did sense something familiar about her.

He loved Rhian with all his heart, and he knew it, now, and would until the day Arda ceased to be. He loved her more than he ever thought possible, and it was agony.

And he had no idea whether Rhian would or even could, love him back.

As these thoughts came to him, his steps became purposeful, and he fetched his cloak and made for the stables and saddled his horse. As he galloped through the paths in the forest, he prayed to the Valar for strength and understanding, to help him endure this agony and fear.

Finally, he stopped at his favorite place, where the trees were particular friends of his. Most of them were sleeping for the winter, but he stepped over to the biggest one and placed his hands on its bark, and began to sing to it. Then he began to climb, nearly to the top.

After he settled himself on a heavy limb, he leaned his back against the trunk and sighed, as he prayed, "Please, if there is no purpose to this, take this from me. I do not know if I can bear it." He asked the Elbereth, Queen of the Stars, and Yavanna, Queen of the Trees and the Forest, for help and strength, for wherever this road took him.

ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:

Neledho – Enter (command)