Chapter Forty-Two

SUMMARY: Thranduil and family are enjoying their breakfast, when he senses something…. Has something happened to Bard?

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The Woodland Realm; 15th of April, 2942, T.A.

"Good morning, children!" Thranduil said, as he came to the dining room, still buttoning his robes at the shoulder.

"Hi, Ada!" Tilda smiled. I did most of my buttons myself this morning. Sigrid only had to help me a little bit!"

Thranduil kissed the top of her head. "That is indeed wonderful news, Tithen Pen. Make sure you show your Da when he comes. Boys, are you ready for your maths test? It is today, is it not?"

"Aye," Bain said. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"I'm not, but I studied till my eyes got tired." Rhys added. "I hate maths."

"I like it right enough." Bain said, as he buttered his bread. "It's writing I'm not crazy about."

"Oh, I love writing!" Sigrid said. "Especially when we practice Tengwar."

"Me, too!" Added Tilda. "It's like drawing pictures."

"Well, Galion keeps telling me my handwriting looks like a spider web." Bain rolled his eyes.

"At least you're good at spelling." Tilda told him.

"Maybe so, but he says it doesn't count, if no one can read it."

"I'm afraid Galion is correct, Bain. As a future King, your writing must be impeccable, and your cursive must be perfect. I have told this to your father, too. Any document you write will be seen as a reflection of your country and your leadership." Thranduil told him.

"So he keeps telling me." The boy sighed. "It's not fair to judge someone like that."

"No, it is not, Bain, but it happens, and you do not want to give outsiders any reason to cause you difficulty. It's one of the hundreds of things a Royal must do well; they must hold themselves to the highest of standards, because they represent their people, everywhere they go. Even your own people will look to all of you, to be an example."

"Even me?" Tilda looked at Thranduil curiously.

"Even you." The Elvenking smiled. "That is why we urge you to do your very best. If you are happy with your efforts, it helps, when others criticize."

"Oh, believe me," Hilda told them, "there's always going to be one or two who 'll have something to say, but Thranduil's right. Once you know in your heart you've done right, or at least your best, any nastiness can roll off your back."

"It seems to me," Rhys considered. "If someone is going to look down on us, they'll find a reason, no matter what we do."

"That is also correct. But you do not need to help them, due to carelessness." Thranduil pointed out.

"I'm working on my writing," Tilda piped up. "Meriel and me do it all the time."

"That's 'Meriel and I,' and you're getting better every day, Beanie." Hilda put her arm around her. To the boys, she said, "I know Sigrid will be in the Healing Halls this afternoon. Where will you two be?"

"Daeron wants to take our class out and show us some things in the forest. He says it's easier to learn different footprints for tracking that way."

"Lieutenant Daeron is correct. It is how I first learned, with my father. He will also show you the clues animals can leave on the trees and bushes. Tracking is an essential military skill."

"I can't believe we have snow in April! Last week, we just needed a sweater, and the next thing you know, it's back to mittens and scarves!" Hilda sighed. "Speaking of which, Bain, make sure you get those mittens with the hole in them to me, so I can mend them. Do you have your blue pair?"

"Yes, Auntie Hil."

"What about you, Rhys? Do you have anything that needs mending?"

"No, My Lady, but…" Rhys winced. "I can't find my scarf."

"Again? Is it under your bed?"

"That was the first place I looked. It isn't in my wardrobe, either. I think it might have fallen out of the sleeve I put it in, when we hung up our coats in the barn."

"I don't doubt it. Never mind; I've got some extras." Hilda turned to Tilda. "So, what exciting things do you have planned this afternoon, Little Bean?"

"After my nap, my friend Gwen is coming to play!" Tilda said, with a smile. "She's gonna bring her dolls, and we'll have a tea party."

"I like Gwen." Sigrid finished her tea. "Her sister Anna is in my class."

Thranduil looked out the window by the balcony. "It is cold, but sunny, and the snow is not terribly deep." He turned to Tilda, "If your friend Gwen brings warm clothing, perhaps I will take you both out in the Garden for a little while."

"It would," Hilda agreed, "but don't forget to keep your nose and mouth tucked inside your scarf, lovey."

"I will! When I see Anna in class, I'll tell her to get her wraps."

"You are welcome, Tithen pen. We will take a bit of a walk in the Garden; the sunshine will do you good."

Bain and Rhys were talking about the big snowball fight they were planning by the barns, as Thranduil got up from the table. He picked up his cup of hot tea, to take to work with him, and was just about to wish the children good day, when he gasped, and grabbed his chest.

Thranduil felt a sudden rush of pressure flow through his body, knocking the wind out of him. His left leg buckled underneath him, and he grabbed the sideboard to prevent himself from falling. His teacup loudly crashed to the floor, as he closed his eyes and gasped again, hanging onto the sideboard to keep him upright.

"ADA!" Sigrid flew out of her chair and rushed to him, holding him steady. "What's wrong? What is it?"

Thranduil couldn't tell her. He didn't understand himself.

Hilda grabbed his other arm and they led him back to his chair, keeping her voice calm, to ease everyone's panic.

"All right, all right…sit you back down, Thranduil, and stay there. Sigrid, go get Elénaril; right now. Galion," she addressed the Steward, who rushed in at Sigrid's shout, "how about something to clean the mess up? You three," she pointed at Bain, Rhys and Tilda, "will be late for school, if you don't get a move on. Your Ada probably ate something that didn't agree with him. If it's something serious, I'll send for you, but I'm sure this is nothing."

Bain wasn't convinced. "Are you sure?"

"Remember how you get when you eat anything with sage? Makes you sick as a dog, doesn't it? We'll get him checked out be sure, then he'll be off to work, all right, love? There's no sense worrying until there's a reason to."

Hilda put her hands on her hips. "Now, I don't want you saying anything about this to the other kids. Rumors could get out of hand, and the whole palace could get upset over nothing. Get it?"

Tilda smiled, "Got it!"

Hilda smiled at her. "Good! Bain, push your sister's chair; Meriel can meet you on the way. Now, give us a kiss, and be off with you."

"I hope your tummy feels better, Ada!" Tilda called, as Bain wheeled her into the hall, and towards the school.

Galion finished cleaning up the mess returned to Thranduil's side.

"How are you feeling now, My Lord?"

"I am not hurt, and I am breathing better." Thranduil said, still dazed. "I do not understand…"

Hilda shook her head. "I don't either; then again, I don't know much about Elves. Elénaril is on her way."

"I do not think I need to see her." he weakly protested. "I just need a moment…"

"You will let her look at you, and I'll hear no more about it." Hilda said firmly. "You're not to move until she gets here, do you understand?" She put her hands on her hips and dared him to stand up. Galion crossed his arms, and nodded in agreement.

Meekly, Thranduil stayed put.

"Now," she said, "Tell me exactly what you felt and what happened."

"I was feeling fine, when suddenly, there was this pressure in here," he put his hand on chest, "then my leg was suddenly weakened," he indicated his left leg. "There was a horrible fear, then nothing…" As he said those words, the sickening realization came to him. "Oh, no…" he whispered.

"What?"

He looked at Hilda and Galion in alarm. "I do not think it was me." He started to rub his chest, and looked at his Aide in terror. "Galion, it was not me!"

Galion's eyes widened in understanding. Hilda was looking between them, confused.

"Are you sure, Thranduil? Could it possibly be anything else?" Galion looked at him intensely, resting his hand on Hilda's shoulder to try to calm her.

Elénaril rushed into the chamber, followed by Sigrid, who was on the verge of tears.

Thranduil looked at Hilda with pleading eyes, and shook his head at her, ever so slightly.

The woman nodded, and went to Sigrid. "Now, love, just get you to school. I'm sure it's nothing, and Ada feels better already! See?"

Thranduil turned and gave her a reassuring smile. "I do not hurt, Iellig, I just stumbled, but they are going to examine me to be sure. Your Auntie Hil thinks it might be something I ate. I promise, if there is something wrong with me, we will let you know. Do you believe me?"

Daeron rushed in to the room and looked at all the worried faces. "The children are in class, My Lord. Bain told me what happened. Can I help?"

Sigrid's lips trembled. "I don't know what's wrong with Ada," she told him.

Hilda hugged her and rubbed her back. "We'll get to the bottom of it, love. Now, give him a kiss, and get to school. We'll just make sure your he's is all right, so he can get to work."

Daeron nodded to his King. "I will escort her, and be right back."

Hilda kissed her forehead, and after Sigrid had kissed Thranduil and Galion on the cheeks, she left, not looking reassured at all.

Elénaril was looking the Elvenking over, checking his heart, and movements. "I see nothing wrong, My Lord. You look and sound fine. I do not hear your body cry out anywhere."

Thranduil didn't look relieved. In fact, he looked even more terrified. "Galion, get my horse and an escort ready. I leave for Dale immediately. I'm sure of it, now." He looked at Hilda. "Something's happened to Bard. It was him."

Hilda put her hands to her mouth in horror.

Elénaril raised her hands, and asked everyone in the room to be silent. "I want you to still your mind, and look inward, please."

After taking several deep breaths, while they waited.

"My Lord, is King Bard still with you? Do you feel him?" Elénaril asked.

"Yes, but this is Bard; I know it, and I must go."

Galion left quickly to make arrangements.

Thranduil looked at Hilda. "You are very pale; Elénaril, please get Lady Hilda a chair."

Elénaril rushed to help the woman sit down, took her hand. "My Lady, has Lord Bard explained to you about Elven marriages? I know you were told about his choice, and what it means for him, but do understand about bond-mates?"

Hilda looked at Thranduil, uncertain. "What's the rest of it? You mean, there's more?"

Thranduil turned to Elénaril. "Would you be so kind as to explain to her fully? She might understand then. I must get ready, and get into my armor. I need to leave immediately."

He ran into his dressing room and tore off his robes and grabbed his black and silver tunic and leather leggings. Galion ran in a few minutes later and began to take his armor off its stand and made ready to fasten his chest pieces on. Once done, his other coverings and cloak were fastened, Galion made to put his battle-crown on.

"Please; I do not need this."

"Are you sure?"

"I am not a King, now. I am a husband. Please just pack it with the rest of my things."

Galion understood, and quickly took care of it.

Once all was made ready, he went back out to the dining area, where Elénaril was checking Hilda's pulse, and making her drink a glass of water.

Thranduil put his arm around Hilda's shoulders. "I will send word, as soon as possible. I know you must explain to the children that I left, but they must not know that Bard is immortal. I do not know what you should say to them, if Bard is possibly hurt -" Thranduil's voice broke, and he couldn't say more.

Instantly, Hilda's arms were around him and they held each other tight, in fear. She was so much shorter, that her head barely reached his chest. She might be small, but she loved their family with a ferocity that matched his own, and he adored her for it.

Thranduil hugged her tightly to him and put his chin on the top of her head. "Try not to alarm the children unnecessarily, as hard as it might be. Tilda's heart is still weak, and we must protect her."

"I know, love. We'll do our best." Hilda pulled away, and looked up at Thranduil, and tried to keep her voice strong and steady. "Just get to our Bard, and do whatever you have to. Those kids can't lose him." Her lips trembled. "I can't lose my boy, either."

Thranduil brought both of her hands to his mouth, and kissed them, whispering. "I promise to do whatever is necessary."

Daeron came dashing back, and was quickly apprised of the situation. "Shall I go with you to Dale, My Lord?"

Thranduil shook his head. "No. If you came, the children would know something is wrong. I need you here, to help Galion and Hilda keep everyone in their normal routine, until we know for certain they should be told." He took the Guard's shoulders in his hands, and said, "I know my family will be safer with you here, and they all will need your support. Help with the children, and do your best to keep everyone calm; they have been through much, these past months, and we cannot allow our Tithen Pen to have a setback." His voice wavered slightly. "Di leithiathodh?"

"Nidhin di meriathon." The Guard vowed. "I will not fail you, Aran Nin."

Thranduil looked at him gratefully. "Thank you, Mellon nîn. Please go and make sure my escort is ready in ten minutes."

Daeron nodded, then saluted and left to see it done.

Soon, it was all arranged. The children would be simply told Thranduil was called away to Dale to see Bard and Dáin about something (which wasn't really a lie – if it was true Bard was hurt, Dáin would surely become involved.) and he would be back as soon as possible. Hilda would temporarily move into Thranduil's room to look after the children at night, and they would all work together to keep them calm and busy.

"There is no time to say goodbye to the children," Thranduil told Hilda, but the real reason why he avoided them was to prevent them from sensing his terror. Both Galion and Hilda understood this, without words, and nodded their agreement.

"I believe it is best if we keep the information to a minimum, for as long as possible." Galion told them.

"I agree. I will not have them sitting here mired in worry." Thranduil said. "There would be no point to it. If Bard truly is injured, we can tell them when he is recovering."

Galion took Hilda's elbow. "Come, My Lady. It is time."

Hilda and Galion walked Thranduil to the Main Doors, when Hilda threw her arms around him. "I love you very much, and no matter what happens, we're family, and we'll get through it together, do you hear me?"

"Thank you," he whispered. "You are as a mother to me."

"Ha!" she laughed, as she wiped her eyes with her white handkerchief. "I'm sure your Mam didn't yell at you, like I do."

He grinned, and helped wipe the tears from her face. "You remind me of her more often than you think, My Lady."

When Thranduil threw his arms around his Aide, he whispered, "I am so frightened, Galion."

"I know you are, but you will never have to face anything alone." Galion told him quietly. "Now go; with all our hopes and prayers." He took the Elvenking's face in his hands, and offered him an encouraging smile. "You will do your best; I know this, Ion-nauth nîn. We will be sending prayers for strength."

Thranduil sighed and walked through the Main Doors.

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The horses were ready, clad in thick leather armor over blankets to keep them warm. Their legs were wrapped to the knees in wool to protect them from the cold temperatures. Thranduil, as an Elf, wouldn't be bothered by the cold so much, and once they were moving, the horses wouldn't be so either, but they needed protection if they had to stop.

He mounted Naurmôr, his black stallion, with such haste and worry, that the huge horse reared up, anxious to go, and they were off. The other Elves gently spoke to their horses, asking for haste, and the beasts complied, as they loved their riders, and felt the urgency.

Along the way, Thranduil couldn't stop images running through his mind: Mírelen, staring at him as her eyes dulled, and remembered that horrible severing in his heart when her fëa fell silent as she left to go to Mandos. He couldn't stop thinking of agonizing vacuum inside him, when she left. It was a black, cold space inside of him that ached to be filled, but there was nothing that could help. Worse, he couldn't stop thinking of the years he'd spent, struggling to simply stay on Middle Earth.

This couldn't be happening; he had just come back to life! He had just found love and healing and now, could it be snatched away, again? What a cruelty!

About an hour into the trip, they saw one of King Dáin's Ravens swoop low and call loudly, before it continued its journey to the Palace. Thranduil's heart leapt into his throat, and he couldn't stop the strangled cry that came from him when he saw it.

So, it was true. Something terrible had happened to his Bard.

Oh no… Oh, please… Please…

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Just over two-thirds of the way to Dale, they met a unit of Elven riders. He didn't stop, but quickly shouted an order to turn around and give him the news on the way.

Bard was headed to a building site to work this morning, they said. He stopped by the Eastern wall to speak with Old Ben, when a large stone block that was being lifted to the top of the watch tower had fallen. The rope in one of the pulleys came off track, cutting into it and causing the rope to suddenly snap. Bard was not underneath the stone when it fell, but the huge block somehow bounced and knocked into a stack of stones the same size, sitting on the ground, causing it to topple over, crushing his leg.

He had been immediately taken to his chambers, where the Healers were frantically trying to save him. The King of Dale was screaming in pain, and crying out for Thranduil, before the Healer mercifully put him under a losta-luith, sending him to sleep, and temporary oblivion, while they worked on him.

Thranduil's heart was in his throat, and he didn't try to check the tears running off his chin.

He couldn't lose him. He just couldn't.

Not after losing Mírelen. Not after almost a thousand years of agony and emptiness, after finally learning to open his heart, to love again... No! It was too cruel!

Thranduil sent up a frantic prayer to the Valar, to Eru, even to Mithrandir, in case the Wizard could hear him. Please, save him. Please… I cannot let it happen again… I have to get to him in time, please… I have to! I beg you with everything in me…

Naurmôr sensed his pain and urgency, took off and ran at a full gallop, going faster than Thranduil thought possible. Thank you, my friend, he spoke to the horse in Quenya, offering a prayer to give the horse strength and stamina, as he let go of the reins and gave him his head, knowing this horse would not let him fall. The others struggled to keep up, but he would not slow down until he was by his Bowman's side. Thranduil's heart continued to pound in fear, his breath gasping the icy air.

"My Lord? Are you well?" Captain Mablung, Feren's Second-in- Command, managed to make it up to his right side, still at a full run. He looked at the King in concern.

"I will be fine when I reach my husband!"

"Please, My Lord. I must speak to you. Please!"

Thranduil slowed his horse, but did not stop. "Speak."

"Forgive me, Aran nîn, if I speak out of turn. I do not know the extent of your bond, but you might be able to help him, even now. I understand your fear, but if your fëa is joined with King Bard's, I am afraid that your panic could affect him. If I can sense your fear and dread, and he could, as well; especially as we grow closer."

Thranduil looked over at him, shocked at the Elf's words, then supremely grateful. He was right. He needed calm himself, and he needed to send Bard strength. He could do that. He could help his Bowman, even now.

The Valar had heard his pleas, and sent him some help.

The Elvenking turned to the Lieutenant. "You might help to save King Bard's life, and I am in your debt."

"Thank you, Hîr nîn." Mablung fell back to leave Thranduil alone with his thoughts.

Forcing himself to let go of the fear, he made himself breathe deeply. He centered himself, forcing his heart to calm and beat slower and stronger. He pictured Bard, strong, healthy, and whole. Full of life, laughing. Pictured Bard beneath him, as they joined for the first time, seeing the joy and ecstasy on his face; the love in his eyes, looking into each other's souls. He pictured Bard with his children, seeing how tenderly and proudly he looked at them. Whatever happened when he reached his bedside, he would deal with then, but for now, he thought and meditated on love, on strength, on family, in hopes that Bard might feel him.

He could do this. He was the most powerful Elf in the Northern Realms, and he could do this for his husband, whom he loved more than his own life. Behind him, he heard the Elves singing, adding their song's power to his, and he hoped that all the Elves in Dale were doing the same thing.

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Moments before Bard's accident, Thangon began to bark at his master with increasing worry. He had heard the odd squeak of the pulley lifting the stone block and odd strain of the rope, and knew something bad was about to happen. Bard was too, too close, and he had to move his master away! He grabbed Bard's sleeve and tried to pull him away, but Bard ignored him, then ordered him be quiet, while he spoke to Old Ben.

Finally, Thangon backed up several yards, and ran at Bard using every ounce of speed and power he possessed, and rammed his beloved master, to get him out of the way, just as the rope snapped, as the great stone fell, as the stack toppled over, as the topmost block headed straight for Bard's head.

The impact of their bodies sent Thangon flying, and he landed on his side with a yelp. The dog had managed to push most of Bard away, but not quite enough, and the stone block crushed his master's upper leg.

As Bard lay there, screaming in agony, everyone rushed forward to remove the block, then someone removed his belt and got a tourniquet around the top of Bard's thigh to stay the rapid flow of blood coming from him. Others threw off their coats, and removed their tunics to wrap around his wound, as tight as they could to absorb what blood still flowed, despite their efforts.

Thangon sat nearby and howled in misery, as they worked at the scene. As soon as a litter was brought to carry him, the dog insisted on walking near him. He whined and frantically licked Bard's face, as they quickly brought him through the streets and into the Great Hall. They needed him to remain conscious, and Thangon knew it, although Bard's screams of agony tore at the giant dog's heart.

At last, they made it to Bard's big bedroom, and the Chief Healer had them put the litter right on top of the bed. He couldn't risk Bard being moved, until they knew the extent of his injuries. The entire time they were examining him, Bard cried and screamed and called out for his husband, and his children, and Thangon whined in desolation.

At first, they tried to keep the dog out of the room, but Thangon kept throwing himself at the thick door, until the Healer relented, afraid the dog would injure himself. Once in the room. Thangon stationed himself on the floor, by the bottom of the bed, out of the way. He never took his eyes off Bard and whined, every time he heard Bard scream.

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At long last, Thranduil and his troops saw the City Wall, and he heard the horns signal his approach. His stallion did not slow, did not tire, did not fail him. He heard the shouts, "Open the gates! The King of the Woodland Realm approaches! Clear the road! The King approaches! Clear the road!"

With his long, blonde hair flying, Thranduil raced through the Gates, followed by the others, and still his beloved horse did not stop until he was at the doors to the Great Hall. He dismounted swiftly, landing on the balls of his feet and ran up the steps, through the archways on the dais. The big doors were opened for him, and he didn't stop until he was in front of the door of their bedchamber. There he stood for an instant, raised shaking hand to the doorknob.

He became afraid again.

He heard a gasp, then, "Ada?" There was Tauriel, and the other end of the corridor and her were eyes red-rimmed, from crying.

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As soon as word of the accident reached Erebor, King Dáin had rushed to Dale with his Guard, and a Raven was dispatched immediately, to fetch Thranduil. Just to be sure, he told Feren to send an escort to the Woodland Realm, to fetch him.

"I ken the Elf'll have rider's with 'im, but I'm no' willin' to take a chance."

"I agree." Feren said, and the escort was dispatched, within minutes.

Everyone was anxiously huddled in the Great Hall, when they heard the shouts from the Western Gate. Dáin stood when the doors to the Great Hall slammed open, and all the Elves stood at attention, as Thranduil ran in, with a terrified look on his face.

"The lad's back in 'is bed, Thranduil." Dáin ran over to the Elvenking. "Don' know 'ow ye got 'ere so early - but we're glad the see ye."

Thranduil said nothing, just gave the King Under the Mountain a quick nod, then ran through the center aisle at top speed and disappeared into the back passage.

"Go on, lassie." Dáin said to Tauriel, who slumped against him in relief. "Help yer Dad get out o' his armor." He gave her shoulder a squeeze and said gently. "We'll be awaitin' and aprayin' out here. Go on, wit' ye."

Tauriel looked at him with teary eyes, then ran after the Elvenking.

Dáin turned to his Dwarven Aide, he commanded. "Fetch some ale, from the Mountain, and 'ave Bombur an' some others come te get some food an' drinks agoin' out here. These Dale folks need lookin' after, till we ken what's doin'."

The King Under the Mountain knew it was going to be a long, long night.

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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:

Di leithiathodh? – Would you please protect them?

Nidhin di meriathon - I will protect them

Aran nîn - My King

Ion-nauth nîn – Son of my heart

Hîr nîn – My Lord

Naurmôr – Black Fire