Chapter Forty
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SUMMARY: Bard and Tilda visit her classmates, and she and Ada make plans to help her remember some things.
The Kings do a bit of visiting while Bard is there, and Alun is brought up to speed about his mother's condition.
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The Woodland Realm, 12th of March, 2942, T.A.
After breakfast, Bard accompanied the children to school, and took Tilda with him, in her chair.
"When can I go back, Da?" Tilda looked up at him. "I miss my friends."
"I know you do, Beanie, and Meriel and Mistress Bronwyn have been watching your progress closely. I think you'll be starting back soon, and for little bits at a time, so you don't get too tired."
"Soon?"
"You'll have to check with Meriel and Daeron about that. I think it will be soon. Would you like to say hello to your class?"
"Could we?"
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Bard and the children entered the Dining Hall, and after saying goodbye, Sigrid and Bain went over to their table with Mistress Bronwyn, and Bard wheeled toward the back of the large room.
"Guess who's here for a visit!" Bard called out to her teacher.
"Tilda!" Miss Eryn cried. "It is good to see you!"
Tilda's classmates crowded around her to say hello.
"We missed you!"
"Are you coming back soon, Tilda?"
"I like your chair."
"Can you go anywhere in it?"
"Can't you walk anymore?" Asked one little boy, then blushed, when the other children shushed him.
"No, children," Bard assured them. "It's all right to ask questions. Tilda was very weak from her sickness, but she does lots of exercises to get strong again, and she's even begun to walk some."
"I even to exercises in my Ada's big pool!" Tilda said. Which was met by another chorus of oohs, ahs, and questions.
"Your Da has a pool?"
"You're so lucky!"
"Do you have a swimming dress?"
"How big is the pool, Tilda?"
"Can I come an visit you?"
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Bard studied his youngest child with a growing concern. While she enjoyed the attention, but something wasn't quite right with her. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "All right, love?"
She looked up at him. "Uh huh." She was smiling, but he wasn't quite convinced.
"Tilda, we are so glad to see you, and if you like, I can come to see you to talk about what we've been learning."
"Yes, please," she said politely.
"Come on, Little Bean. Let's get you back, so Meriel can get your morning started."
Tilda waved goodbye to her friends, and Bard went to the center of the Dining Hall and said a few words of approval and encouragement to the children, before he took her back to their chambers.
Bard picked her up and sat her on his lap. "So, tell me what's wrong with my Little Bean. And don't pretend there's not. I'm your Da, and I can tell."
Tilda looked down.
"What's wrong, love?" Bard urged her. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."
Thranduil had entered the living room and, upon seeing her distress, sat down beside them and began to rub her back. "Come now, hênig. Tell your Da and Ada what troubles you."
"I… I c-couldn't remember everybody's n-names!" And she screwed her face up and began to cry.
"Oh…" Bard gathered her into his arms. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll bet that's scary."
She nodded her head. "I know they're my friends, but some of them… I don't remember."
"So, their faces you know, you just have trouble remembering the names?"
"Uh huh," she sniffed.
"That's not surprising. Remember how much trouble you used to have with that around here?"
"Ada made cards for me."
"Does it help? Do you know the names now?"
"Aye. But what if I go back to school, and I don't remember? They'll think I'm stupid, and laugh at me!"
"Oh, no, no, Beanie. You are not stupid, do you understand? You are a wonderful, smart, little girl, and we'll figure this out."
Thranduil leaned forward and stroked her hair. "I will arrange to visit your class as a special surprise, and I will draw their pictures. I will make one for them, so they can give them to their Naneths, and we will keep copies. I will help you re-learn their names, and I am sure Miss Eryn can help with other ideas. How is that?"
She nodded her head, although she sniffled and hiccuped a little. "That's good."
"Consider it done. Do not worry, Tithen Pen; we will find a way."
Thranduil reached into his pocket for his handkerchief stopped with Tilda's face lit up. "Ooh! I forgot; I've got my own!" And she pulled out her own pink one.
Bard burst out in laughter, and Thranduil gave their youngest a proud smile.
"I asked Uncle Galion if he could get me some, to be like Ada. They made them from the gowns you had to wear, when I got sick."
"See how smart you are?" Bard kissed her on the cheek. "Now, Ada and I need to see some people, but we'll be home for lunch, Little Bean. You've got to get your morning work done, right?"
Meriel stepped up to her with a big smile. "Are you ready?"
"Uh huh. By Da, bye Ada." She said, as Meriel wheeled her off for her morning exercises and lessons.
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They made the rounds of the Visitor's wing to check in on the folks from Dale, and all seemed to be well. They made a point to check in on Gruffudd and the men, too.
"Good morning!" He said to the older man, who approached him on his crutches. "I see you've got quite the operation going on!" Bard said, as he shook hands with the man. "I'm impressed."
"Aye, we've been hard at it, and the Elves have been a big help, too." The man gestured with his arm at the work tables.
"I like it." Bard nodded.
"The first shipment will be ready in two weeks." Thranduil told him. "Once the order for bed frames is complete, Gruffudd and I will see if other items can be made."
"Well done, you two!" The King of Dale grinned.
"Aye, Lord Thranduil is a good sort, and this is a lot more fun than sitting around twiddling our thumbs." Gruffudd added. "We feel like we're helping rebuild our home, too, and that's a boon to our spirits."
"I can see that. I'll check in again, in two weeks, all right?"
"Aye, My Lord. We'll be ready." Gruffudd nodded to them and used his crutches to get over to his stool to picked up his bradawl, and got back to work.
Thranduil wanted to speak with Glélindë and the girls, so that was their next stop, and were greeted formally by a three-year-old with blonde ringlets, who had been practicing.
"Heyo, Yord Frandool!" Dafina curtsied, and this time, she managed to stay on her feet.
"And good morning to you, My Lady," Thranduil bent down from his great height, and with all seriousness, took her tiny hand and kissed it. "I am truly honored to be here." The little girl clapped both hand over her mouth to hide her smile.
"Heyo, Yord Bard!" And did it again, although she wobbled a little.
"Good morning, to you. Your curtsy has improved, and I am very pleased." Bard bowed to her formally. "Is that a new dress? It is very beautiful." Dafina giggled with delight, and grabbed the bottom of her skirt, and began to swing it, back and forth, in a wide circle.
"May I help you with something, My Lord?" Glélindë smiled down at her daughter, and ran her fingers through her hair.
"Yes, as a matter of fact." Thranduil told her. "I was hoping you and your daughters could come to my chambers for a visit, in a few days. Lady Tilda is doing much better, and we think visits from friends would lift her spirits."
"I have some free time on Friday in the morning, if that would be agreeable?" Glélindë told the Kings. "Dafina and I could come while Alis and the others are in school, or we could come in the evening?"
"Friday morning is suitable, and we could arrange a dinner, as well, so all the children could be together. Sigrid would enjoy seeing both your girls."
'Lindë put her finger on Dafina's nose and wiggled it, "Would you like to go and visit Lady Tilda?"
"Goodie!" she swung her arms out wide, and leaned over backwards, in her Nana's arms. "Yord Bard, you're upside-down!"
"Funny how that works, doesn't it?" Bard grinned, tickled her under her chin.
She straightened up and asked 'Lindë, "Can we go to their house now, Nana?"
"Not today, Mallen Ant. You have playgroup, in a few minutes."
"Ooh! Pwaygwoop!" And she hung upside-down again, with a smile.
"Yes, Iell nin. We will go to see Lady Tilda on Friday." She looked up at the Kings. "Can I offer you both some tea or refreshment?"
Thranduil nodded politely. "I would enjoy that very much, but we have another appointment, and we must be going." He looked at Dafina. "And you have your playgroup, do you not?"
The little girl put her finger in her mouth and nodded her head.
"Another time, perhaps." 'Lindë said, as she walked with them to the door. "Thank you for coming."
"Bye!" Dafina smiled and waved.
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"That child could stop a war, just by smiling." Bard chuckled, as they wound their way through the halls and walkways.
Thranduil added, "I look forward to introducing her to Dáin, and seeing him wrapped around her little finger."
"The Dwarven families will be coming in the spring, too. Soon, Erebor and Dale will be a lot noisier."
"Ai, but my Palace will be much too quiet, then." Thranduil said sadly. "I feel bad for my people here; they will miss the children."
"Some are staying, though, so it won't be too terrible. And you said yourself, now that the forest is more peaceful, maybe the Elves will be able to conceive children."
The Elvenking smiled. "That would be a marvelous thing. The heavy weight of evil is much lifted, and my troops have been busy scouring the forest for remnants of Orcs, and we're finally getting ahead of the spiders. Their population should be greatly decreased by summer."
"Your forest will be safe, again."
"Safer, yes. We will enjoy a time of relative peace, although I doubt it will last, as we are facing difficult times, in the future."
"It's too bad Lady Galadriel didn't destroy Dol Guldur when she had the chance." Bard remarked.
"Please do not blame her, Meleth nîn. She showed tremendous courage, by facing Sauron himself, and spent much of her power to banish him. She will be recovering from that for many years to come."
"You're right; I shouldn't have said that." Bard sighed. "Well, maybe someday, she'll get the chance. I'd like to see it, when it happens."
"Perhaps you will; I hope to see it, as well."
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They traveled along the halls and walkways, and returned to Thranduil's study, where Alun was waiting with Galion.
"How are things, so far?" Bard asked him.
"Rhys seems fine, thank the Valar. We talked all last evening, about it." He looked at Thranduil, "My son was upset, but he told me how you've been looking out for him. Thank you, My Lord."
"No thanks are needed, Master Alun. Rhys is pleasure to take care of."
"Thank you, My Lord."
There was a knock on the study door, and Thranduil gave permission to enter. Írimë, Ina's Elven caretaker came in.
"You sent for me, Sire?" She asked. The Elf had a serene countenance, and a lovely smile, with dark blue eyes. Her long black hair was straight, and fell around the shoulders of the cream-colored dress.
"Yes, I did, Írimë; thank you for coming. Please, take a seat." Thranduil gestured. "Alun, Írimë is one of our Healers, and she has been assigned as your mother's full-time caretaker. I thought you might like to meet her, and I am sure you would appreciate an assessment of your mother's condition."
"I would. Thank you."
"So, tell us, Írimë, how is Mistress Ina, since we saw her last?"
The Elleth sighed. "She has suffered greatly, and even more so, since her sister's suicide, and I must still keep her under a 24-hour watch. I am working on establishing a routine, to encourage constructive and creative pursuits. She is learning to sew, to knit and other such things, and she is finding it soothing, especially when I have her work with bright cheerful colors."
"Does she enjoy it?"
"As much as she can enjoy anything right now. Her concentration is very poor, due to her severe depression, and some of the herbs and teas I administer to keep her calm can make her a bit sleepy. She is very reluctant to leave her rooms, and cannot tolerate the presence of many people, so for now I have only a select few around her, until she is a bit stronger.
"This sounds a lot like what we did for Rhian, doesn't it?" Bard observed.
"Ina and Rhian have much in common, My Lord. Both lived in terror for an extended period of time, and both have been physically and emotionally abused. The treatment is much the same, although your mother," she turned to Alun, "is much worse."
Alun looked very thoughtful. "My aunt dying is probably the best thing that could have happened to her."
Írimë looked at him with sympathy. "I agree with you, and part of your mother sees that, too, but you must understand, she has, in a very short time, lost everything she knew and believed about her life. She must begin to process all that has happened to her and the murder of your father, whom she loved, very much."
"I didn't know…" Alun shook his head. "I really didn't know."
"Alun," Bard said, "There was no way you could have. None of this is your fault, Alun, and you weren't wrong to protect yourself, and your son."
"But, isn't there something I could do? If everything you're telling me is true, why must I stay away from her, and do nothing? I don't understand!"
Thranduil looked at Alun thoughtfully, then asked Írimë, "What are your thoughts?"
The Healer looked at Alun intensely, for several long minutes. "I know you are dealing with your own rage, and that is perfectly natural. As sympathetic as I am, your mother is my patient and I must be absolutely sure of your good intentions. Her very sanity hangs in the balance right now, and the slightest mistake could destroy her." Írimë said firmly, but not unkindly.
"She's right, Alun," Bard told him. "No one would fault you, if you need more time."
Alun considered all this for a few minutes, then said. "I've turned this over and over in my mind, ever since Lord Bard told me what happened. I'm furious at the entire situation, but my mother doesn't deserve that anger; she never did, and I'm sorry for…" His voice caught, and he swallowed, hard. "I just…didn't know…"
Thranduil said, gently. "Your rage is certainly justified. But these are things you must work out within yourself, and keep completely separate from your mother. Are you honestly able to do that?"
Tears filled Alun's eyes. "Yes, My Lord!" He took a few moments to collect himself. "I am her son, and I believe she needs me, and even if it's just in the background. Tell me what to do, and I'll do it."
Írimë regarded him carefully, with narrowed eyes, before she nodded her head and gave him a small smile. "I believe you, Alun. You could be key to her recovery, but we must take it slowly and carefully."
"How so?"
"I cannot let you see her just yet, until I am sure she is ready."
"All right; I understand. So, how can I help?"
"We could try to have you give her letters. But they must be carefully worded, so as not upset her. I must insist, at least for now, to read them first, so I can help her."
"Would it help if I write it now, with you here?"
"That would be perfect." She looked at Thranduil. "Will that be possible?"
"Absolutely." Thranduil went to his credenza and fetched some plain paper. "Sit here, at my desk, and Lord Bard and I will allow you some privacy, and take all the time you need. Galion is in the next room, so if you need anything, let him know."
Galion looked up from his desk and said, through the open doorway. "I am at your disposal."
"Thanks, Galion." Bard smiled and waved at him. Then he and Thranduil left the Healer and Alun to their work.
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As they closed the study door behind them, Bard couldn't help but marvel. "This is working out better than I imagined."
Thranduil put his arm around Bard's waist. "Mithrandir said in his letter, that love and forgiveness are the most powerful forces in this world, and beyond."
"Yes, they are."
"As Kings, it is a difficult thing to accomplish. There are times when it is not wise to be merciful, but even then, your actions must be borne from love."
"What do you mean?"
"When someone is brought before you, you must ask yourself if showing mercy could endanger anyone else. If the answer is yes, then you have your answer. Your love for your people as a whole, and their safety must always be your first priority."
That's a good rule of thumb." Bard agreed.
"All individuals will beg for your mercy, Bard. Sentencing someone is still a loving and merciful act, because you are showing your people that you want them to be safe."
Bard mused. "Our choices aren't always clear, are they?"
"Almost never, I am sorry to say. But you are a Man who desires wisdom, and that is a quality you should never lose." Thranduil told him. "There is a saying among my warriors, and of many warriors throughout Middle Earth: 'I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.'"
Bard looked at his husband. "That's exactly how I feel about it. If I ever look forward to wielding a weapon in Battle, then I've lost sight of the true purpose of it."
"Exactly, Hervenn nîn."
"Love wins, again." He took Thranduil's hand and kissed it. "Come on. Let's go see the Little Bean and have some lunch."
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Later that night, when Thranduil took Bard by the hand, and led him into their dressing room…
…he was wearing his emerald necklace, and had the oil and silk scarves ready. They managed not to break the furniture this time, but only because it was Bard who teased Thranduil within an inch of his life.
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Mallen Ant – Golden Gift (Glélindë's pet name for Dafina
De athae, Hîr vuin – Thank you, My Lord.
Gi melin, Thranduil; uireb – I love you Thranduil; always.
Hervenn nîn – My husband
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NOTES:
The passage, 'I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.' came from Faramir; The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, Chapter 5 "The Window on the West."
Thank you to this website once again, for help with my Sindarin: /phrasebooks/sindarin/doriath/#top