7

Chapter Fifty-Eight

SUMMARY: While waiting for the children to arrive, Bard learns a little bit about Ermon, the Chief Healer.

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City of Dale, 25th of May 2942 T.A.; Noon

"I suggest you sit, My Lord," Ermon poked his head in the door of Bard's study. "I do not want that leg worn out before they arrive."

Bard had been anxiously pacing in his study, leaning on his cane more and more. He tried to be still, but he was too full of excitement and from the noise level coming from the Great Hall, the men and women gathered there shared his anticipation.

He sat down and gave the Chief Healer a sheepish grin, motioning for Ermon to join him at the table. "You can't blame me; you're anxious to see your wife, too."

"I am." Ermon smirked. "Unfortunately, I did not get a chance to visit the Palace this winter, thanks to a certain accident-prone King." He raised his eyebrows at Bard.

"Sorry about that." Bard winced. "I hope Elénaril won't hold it against me."

"I doubt it. We are very much used to a life of interruptions. But you are correct in that I have missed her very much." Ermon's blue eyes sparkled, and Bard could see the Elf had brushed his black hair until it shone, with several small braids, and wore a particularly nice dress tunic.

"I'm sorry I never thought to ask after your family before this; especially when you've been so helpful with mine. You never told me Elénaril was your wife; Thranduil only mentioned that in passing while we were recuperating."

"You must have run out of things to talk about," Ermon teased, "if you found my personal life interesting."

"Well, it was either that, or more Sindarin lessons…" Bard rolled his eyes. "Seriously, though; I want to know as much as I can about the people around me. How long have you two been married?"

"We have been married 916 years. I am much older than my wife, and was alone for most of my life. I was never inclined to marry, until Elénaril moved to the Palace to finish her training as a Healer…" He shrugged and smiled. "She finished with flying colors, then became my wife."

"And the rest, as they say, is history."

"This is the first time we have been apart for so long; she has traveled quite a bit to see the villagers, but that would only be for a few weeks." Ermon smiled. "I hope you do not mind, but when she arrives, I plan to keep her busy for a day or two."

"I would insist, even if you hadn't asked. There's nothing going on that the others can't handle, and you two have earned it. I respect Elénaril; she helped save Tilda, and for that alone, I'll worship the ground she walks on." Bard grinned. "I also imagine you're anxious to get back to the Palace."

"Did not Thranduil tell you?" Ermon tilted his head. "My wife and I plan to make our home here for the foreseeable future. The Healing House needs to run smoothly, and, to be frank, you have lost over half of your people, between the fires and the Battle. It is imperative to the survival of the North those that remain are healthy, so your population can increase again."

"You'd do that?" Bard swallowed. "That's...wonderful news!"

"My wife and I look forward to the challenge, after so many years," he lifted his shoulders briefly. "I have already appointed a worthy and respected replacement at the Palace, after my wife leaves."

"Do I know her?"

"You know her sister, Írimë, who takes care of Mistress Ina. Ivárë is older and very gifted and I have mentored her work for many years. She will do well."

"That's great, Ermon." Bard changed the subject. "I don't envy you the stress of that job. It must have been hard when Thranduil was so close to death."

Ermon swallowed and paused a minute or two before he answered. "It was extremely difficult, I admit. I attended Queen Lindorië when she was expecting, and helped bring Thranduil into the world…". He closed his eyes painfully.

"When I lose a patient, I try to focus on the fact that I did everything I could to save him or her, then tell myself things were beyond my control. It is the only way I know to let it go, so I can give the next patient the best care possible. I teach Healers to 'never bleed for the patient,' and this is true, but when you and Thranduil were hovering close to death..." he paused and studied his hands, "…I could not let it go, and I did not know what I would do."

"We didn't die, thanks to you." Bard reached over and put his hand on Ermon's arm.

"I do not think you know of all the Elven volunteers who sat with you and King Thranduil for many days and nights, My Lord. If it were not for them, your heart would have stopped, and Thranduil's fëa would have departed."

"Really?" Bard's eyes went wide. "I had no idea."

"Oh, yes, My Lord: there was a hand on your chest, breathing for you and beating for you for two entire days, until you were out of danger. And your heart stopped completely at least four times. You may also thank your dog, too." Ermon smiled down at Thangon, who was at Bard's feet. "He alerted us to your condition even before we could sense it."

"Holy stars above..." Bard murmured. "I want you to give me their names. When we're done and settled, I want to personally thank them. I owe you all my life."

"I am sure they would appreciate that My Lord, but you should also understand, they wanted to help the man who has made their King happy again."

Bard smiled and blushed slightly. "Believe me, he has made me happy too. I hope Elénaril brings you as much joy."

"She does, My Lord. I was her instructor in the Healing arts." Ermon looked down in his lap and smiled fondly. "I was struck by the "Ehtë Raumo 'love at first sight,' as you call it... I had heard of such a thing from friends and, of course, my patients, but I was older than Thranduil is now, and after so many years, I did not think I was fated to fall in love."

"Until you saw her?"

The Healer laughed. "She showed up in the Infirmary with the other students that morning, and when our eyes met, it felt like I an arrow had struck my chest… I did not speak of my feelings, because I had assumed she was going to return to her village when she was finished, and I did not want to complicate things for either one of us. Two weeks after she passed her exams, I was walking in the public gardens of the Palace, and was surprised to see her there, as I thought she had already left to go back to her family. We talked for many hours, that day."

"Did she tell you why she stayed at the Palace?"

Ermon chuckled. "She did. When I asked her when she was leaving for home, she said, 'That depends upon you, Master Ermon."

"That sounds exactly like Elénaril." Bard shook his head. "She does like to get right to the point, doesn't she?"

"Indeed, she does. She is a very determined Elf, and has a quick mind, but a compassionate nature, despite her no-nonsense approach to medicine. She hides behind a mask of efficiency, as all good Healers must do to survive, but few know the hours she spends worrying to the point of tears for her patients in private. It is well that she married another Healer, for I completely understand that dilemma, and we know how to comfort and encourage one another, like no one else could."

"I'm glad you have each other."

Ermon met his gaze and said, "My wife tells me Princess Sigrid possesses the strength and character to become an excellent Healer, My Lord. She cannot practice yet, of course, but many times, she has helped to keep an upset patient calm during treatment; especially the children. You have a great deal to be proud of."

"I am, thank you. When you married, did Thranduil preside over your ceremony?"

"We did not want a ceremony at all. As you have noticed, my wife and I are a very private couple. Elénaril and I simply went out into the forest on a warm summer day, spoke the words to each other and to Eru Ilúvatar, and then we joined." Ermon tilted his head at Bard and asked, "If you do not mind my asking, was it 'love at first sight' when you met Lord Thranduil?"

"I was newly-widowed when I first met Thranduil, and last November, I was too busy worrying if my people would starve or freeze to death." Bard sighed heavily and winced. "I'd make a terrible Healer, I guess, because I can't deal with blood, nor can I hide behind any façade, when I think of that time. It still twists at me."

"It probably will for a long time."

Bard shook himself from his reverie and got back to the subject at hand. "Now, it was definitely 'love at first sight' when I met my Mattie! I was on my boat going through Laketown, I heard her sing, and I felt like I had been put under some sort of spell. Then she came out of her uncle's house and our eyes met… That was like Ehtë Raumo, let me tell you; I nearly fell out of my boat!" Bard smiled fondly. "We were happy for ten years before she passed, and she gifted me with three beautiful children. She'll never be completely gone, because they're around." Bard reminisced. "I wish you could have known her, but she's happy now, where she is, and I'm glad for her.

"If I had not the cares and worries pressing on me, when Thranduil first rode into Dale, I would have been knocked on my arse, believe me!" Bard laughed. "How could anyone not be? I imagine there were many in your Realm hoping to get his attention…"

The Chief Healer nodded. "You are correct; there were many who became infatuated with him, over the years." The Chief Healer agreed. "But I am glad he was permitted to marry you, Mellon nîn."

"I'm glad, too; and we both have our wives to thank for that." Bard blushed and shrugged his shoulders. We're blessed, although I still wonder why I deserved it." He smiled at Ermon. "If you and Elénaril have anything like what we have, you are a very fortunate Elf. I'm sorry it's been such a hard separation, especially now that I know what sharing a fëa is like."

"I would say the difficulties are far outweighed by the rewards. But I will take your suggestion about limiting my separation with my wife. I have missed her, and now that Mithrandir has brought such wonderful news about the forest, I want to speak with her about children."

"That's wonderful! Does she want this?"

"I did not want to write to her; this is something we should speak of in person, do you not agree?"

"I do, and I wish you the best of luck, Mellon nîn. You've been good to me, and to my people, and if there is anything we can do for you, please don't hesitate."

"I am honored by your words." The Chief Healer got up from the table and looked Bard over quickly. "I must go to the Healing Hall, but I suggest you find a way to rest before the children get here, as hard as it might be."

"I'll try. Thank you."

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Bard watched the Chief Healer leave, then made his way to the Great Hall and took a seat at his usual table with his leg up. Thranduil, who had been out riding with Feren to work off his own excitement, came in a few minutes later.

"How's the weather out there?" Bard asked his husband, who sat next to him.

"Warm, but not terribly so. I have spoken to Percy about setting up some chairs on the dais so we can wait outside and greet them."

"Sounds good; let's do it."

Thranduil took off his riding gloves. "Have you had lunch?"

"Nope. Waiting for you. I tried to get some work done, but I can't concentrate." He admitted to the Elf. "I don't blame you for going out."

"Fînlossen and Naurmôr were desperate for some exercise, so Feren and I thought it would be a good way to make the morning pass quickly. We checked with the sentries at the Western Gate, and they have heard no news of their arrival as of yet."

"I don't expect them for at least an hour. As much as everyone planned to leave early in the morning, so many children are bound to throw them off schedule."

"I know," the Elvenking sighed. "But I am still impatient. Feren is not much better – he is anxious to see his girls and ''Lindë." Thranduil looked around the Hall, and saw several of the women preparing for a feast. "Is the Feast ready?"

Bard looked to his left at the kitchen. "Aye. Since we don't quite know when they'll be coming, Cook has prepared platters of cold meat, breads and cheeses, with fruit and sweetbreads and cookies for dessert."

"I am very hungry now, I am afraid."

"Go around the kitchen to the pass-through window: there's a couple of platters set out for anyone who is peckish. Can you get enough for me, too?"

"Of course, Meleth nîn."

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Thranduil brought back a small plate of food, a tankard of ale, and a glass of wine, and the Kings chatted and laughed for a while over their snack, as the big doors were propped open to let the fresh air and sunshine in. Bard looked out and saw the Men and Elves wandering around the Courtyard talking happily.

Ben came in and headed toward them, grinning from ear to ear, and clapping his hands together. "Tis a grand day indeed, isn't it, My Lord?"

"Aye, it is, Ben." Bard agreed with a smile. "Is your house ready for your daughter and grandson?"

The City Planner grinned as he sat down. "There's room enough on the first floor all three of us, and we'll get the second floor house finished as time goes on. Hilda sent some women over to get sheets and blankets ready and little Darryn's crib is all set up."

"I am very happy for you, Master Ben." Thranduil held up his glass and toasted the man. "A baby in the house can be noisy, but you will enjoy it very much."

"And if you or Rhian ever need a babysitter," Bard grinned, "You can talk to this Elf. He can't get enough of your grandson, and my kids tell me the feeling's mutual."

"Oh, we'll be bringing him by to see you, I'm sure," Ben promised, then he sighed, wistfully. "I'm thinking of my Cristyn, these past few days. She would loved living in Dale."

Bard put his hand on Ben's arm. "I completely understand. And you will be thinking of her often, especially when Rhian and Darryn do something special, or reach a milestone."

Thranduil offered his comfort as well. "Even though Lord Bard and I are with each other, we still think of our wives when it comes to our children. That will never change, but please know your Cristyn is watching over all three of you, and is looking forward to seeing you again."

"That's kind of you, Lord Thranduil," Ben said, quietly. "I –"

Ben couldn't finish his sentence, because suddenly all the bells of Dale began to peal at once, announcing the arrival of the wagons.

They were here!

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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS

Ehtë Raumo – (Q.) Lightning Bolt (lit. "Storm Spear") Sometimes, when an Elf first encounters his or her bond-mate, they can feel a powerful, emotional response, like lightning.