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Chapter Five

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SUMMARY: Vildan spends the morning with his niece and makes some plans to help her.

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But first…

Finally!

The dishes were in the dishwasher, the counters were clean, a load of darks were agitating in the washing machine. Brunhilda, had had her breakfast, and was properly praised when she did her business in the yard (#1 and #2!), and I finally settled in front of my laptop to write another chapter.

It takes some effort to leave reality and enter the world of my imagination, you know. I'd love to just jump into my version of Middle Earth and continue my chronicle of all the characters, but it just doesn't work that way.

Take a deep breath and close my eyes… Focus… Focus…

Shit. Forgot my coffee.

I set aside my lap desk, put my +1.50 computer glasses on the bedside washstand, hauled my arse up and get my cup.

Here we go again.

In through the nose counting to five, exhale to six, and think of Dale. The Great Hall, the Market, Adila's Coffee Café…

And here they are: Characters in Dale are going about their everyday business, greeting each other with friendly smiles and waves…

And there is the one of the stars of this scene: Bard, King of Dale, who is exiting the Throne Room of his Castle.

"He takes off his plain gold coronet, move his neck back and forth to loosen the muscles and stretches his back a bit. A good day's work, he thought, but he's glad it's over. Bard glances toward the ceiling and the floor above. A slow, sly smile lifts one corner of his mouth—"

"OW!" I yelped. The puppy pounced on my feet and sank her teeth into my big toe. "Here, Brunney," I pick up a one of her Bully Sticks and toss it away. "Go get it!"

Deep breaths, and here we go again…

"Thranduil looked up from his book and smiled at Bard who entered their chambers with a gleam in his eye.

'How was Court today?' the Elvenking asked, his voice carefully neutral. 'You look weary, Meleth nin."

'Not that weary.' The Bowman tossed his circlet on his dresser and strode over to Thranduil's chair. 'I've waited all day to get back at you for that stunt you pulled this morning.'

The Elf feigned ignorance. 'What stunt?'

'So that wasn't your hand that teased my cock under the table in the conference room this morning?' Bard quirked his brow. 'The one that made me hard enough to pound nails?"

Thranduil snickered as he gazed upon him through heavy-lidded eyes. 'Perhaps it was… Percy?'

Bard ran his hands up the Elvenking's leggings, and reached for the lacings—

"Yip!" barked Brunhilda. The cat spit and hissed at her.

"No, baby, the cat is not a chew toy," I said and grabbed her favorite stuffed duck and squeaked it. "Mommy really has to get this done. Can't you just lie down for a while?"

"Yip! Yap! Yip!" she got hold of my duvet and shook it in her teeth.

"Bruni— " A hand grabbed my shoulder and I screamed.

It was Bard, and he was trying to surreptitiously rearrange himself. "Don't scare me like that!" I yelped, clutching my chest.

"Did you have to stop that passage there? Thranduil and I were just about to—"

"I know what you were just about to, and I'm trying, but she's just a baby, you know. It's like living with a two-year-old again!"

The King of Dale pursed his mouth. "What if you get her another toy?"

"Besides six dozen she already has?" I waved my hand over the floor of my bedroom, littered with squeakies, chewies, and stuffies. "There's Big Duck, Baby Duck, Rocky Racoon, Skunky, Pink Elephant…"

"'Skunky?'" he made a face. "Really?"

"Think you can do better? Knock yourself out."

Bard picked up the ball and shook it. "This has something in it."

"That's a Treat Ball. You put kibble in it and let them roll it around to make it pop out one piece at a time."

"There you go, then. Here, mutt," he wheedled. "Come on, love; let's leave your mother be for a while so she can get us off—er, get some work done, yeah?"

Brunhilda barked ran over to lick Bard's fingers. He put her on the floor and tossed treat ball out of the room. The puppy barked with delight and ran after it.

"Problem solved. Now," he said and made a rolling gesture with his finger, "chop-chop!" He dashed back to wherever he came from.

"Bard reached for the lacings of Thranduil's breeches and slowly, seductively untied the strings. The Elf bit his lower lip, as Bard opened the fabric and reached for his husband's already rigid cock…

"Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!"

"Oh my God what now?" I grit my teeth. She zoomed into the room, with the shoulder strap to one of my bras in her teeth. She gave me a look of triumph as the rest of the garment trailed behind her. "How in hell did you— Give me that!"

After a surprisingly challenging session of Tug of War, I wrestled it out of her clutches and check the laundry hamper. Just as I suspected: she'd knocked it over again and spread the undies all over the place.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I grab the cast-iron doorstop from the mud room and after I clean up the mess, closed the lid to the hamper I put the weight on top. So there.

Thranduil threw his head back and groaned. 'I have been longing for you to do that,' he breathed. 'I love how you touch me, Meleth nîn."

'You mean like this?' Bard lifted his rigid member out of the layers of fabric and leaned down to take it into his mouth—

Retching. From the living room.

"Brunhilda? Are you okay?" I set the tray aside and stumble up and into the living room, just in time to see the pup cough up something unspeakable on carpet.

"Oh, no!" I grabbed her and rush her outside. "Finish whatever you're doing out here," I cried, and raced back into the house and grabbed cleaning brush and the 64 oz. jug of industrial strength pet stain remover. I'm scrubbing away on my hands and knees when a baritone voice boomed in my ear.

"Wenderful! I really must protest! Bard was just about to—"

"I know!" I dropped the brush and blotted things up with paper towels. "I understand how frustrating this must be, Thranduil—"

"Frustrating does not begin to describe it!" he spat. "My husband and I cannot just put our Gwîbs on 'Pause' while you go running off in all different directions!" He waved a finger in my face. "Then you come back and expect us to pick up where we left off? It is physically impossible!"

"You think this is easy for me?"

"For you?" he yelled. "We are the ones who are supposed to stay aroused! Do you have any idea how difficult that is? Why all these disruptions?"

"It's called Real Life," I got to my feet. "And you're being unfair. Every time I write the two of you having sex, I try to make it genuine and exciting for you, don't I?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"What am I supposed to do? I can't help that Brunhilda is still a baby and needs a lot of attention." I put the cleaning supplies under the sink and open the back door to let the puppy in. Brunhilda barked with joy and wagged her hairy tail at the Elvenking.

Thranduil picked the brown-and-white bundle fur up and stroked her head. Brunney wiggled into him and tried to nip at his chin. "Does her stomach still upset her?"

"I don't think so. She doesn't do well with people food, and my friends were sneaking her bits of pepperoni last night. I was expecting this."

The Elvenking's face softened and he smiled at her. "She is sweet," he said. "I can see why you enjoy— Amarth faeg!" He cursed and held her out at arm's length and glared at me. "This creature just emptied her bladder all over my new robes!"

"Oh, well. I'll just, er," I stammered as I pointed to my room. "Get back to. Um." I turned and ran for my life.

"But what am I supposed to do with this animal? Wenderful?" he called to my retreating back. "Wenderful, you get back here this instant!"

And that's when I woke up…

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"The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched—they must be felt with the heart."

– Helen Keller

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Rivendell, 6th of September 2945 T.A.

Melui Narsegiel was a truly beautiful child.

Of course, all children are exceptional to their parents, not to mention doting uncles, but she really was stunning. Vildan had to doubt that King Thranduil, an accomplished portraitist, would take one look at that long white/blonde hair, those striking light grey eyes, and soon after, Melui would be immortalized in an ornate frame, depicting her in a field of long grass, the wind whipping that spun gold into the air as she bent to pluck a daisy or some other tall flower.

Her coloring reminded him of Elénaril, one of the Healers from Dale (who was as light as her husband, Ermon, was dark) and, of course, the Elvenking himself, but there the similarities ended. Melui's features as a younger, purer version of her mother, and the only glimpse Vildan would ever have of Meássë as a child.

She was sitting on the thick rug of the sitting room, the folds of her blue dress surrounding her like the petals of the morning glories that grew just outside the window. A small pile of toys lay in a tempting pile at her knee but went unnoticed. Vildan's heart clenched when he recognized the pair of brightly-painted wooden horses he had given Melui for her tenth-begetting day. They lay next to some stuffed animals and a colorful knitted ball.

"Dailên," Vildan used his special name for her as he sat on the floor in front of her. "Good morning, Little Beauty; I have missed you, and I have come home to take care of you. Do you not have a smile for your Tôrana Vida?" He followed Elladan's suggestion and was cheerful and engaging, and only his fingers, laced together in his lap to quell the impulse to reach for her, gave him away.

"Melui," Laniër rubbed her upper back gently. "You love your Uncle Vildan, yes? Can you wish him Bain-Aur?"

The child turned her head in his direction, but did not meet his eyes, focusing instead on his fingers. Vildan released his hands from their nervous clench, and slowly held one out, palm up, as an invitation.

"Does she even know I am here?" he asked Laniër softly. "Do you think she recognizes me?"

"I wish I could tell you, Mellon," she gave him a sad smile. "At first, she was completely oblivious to her surroundings. Lord Elrond tried a few spells to help her come out of her shell, which was only partially successful."

"I do not see any success." Vildan's eyes remained on his niece.

"We can discuss the details later, in private," Elladan nudged him. "What did we talk about?"

Vildan nodded, and adopting a cheerful tone, began to speak to his niece the way he always would. His hand was still held out in invitation. "You love to hold my hand when I take you to the river, Dailên. Do you remember the day we were at the Ford of Bruinen and I showed you how to skip rocks across the water? You clapped your hands and said, 'Goltho nin, Tôrana Vida, goltho nin!" He scooted a little closer. "I put my hand over yours and showed you how to hold the stone sideways, and you refused to give up until you could do it all by yourself! Ai, your Nana was not pleased when we were late for your supper, but—"

At the mention of her mother, Melui lifted her chin slightly and blinked a few times.

"Melui," he said gently. "Can you take my hand?"

Slowly, the child raised her arm and rested her tiny hand lightly in his. Vildan kept his palm flat, not wanting to rush her. "Mae garnen!" he grinned. He continued to speak softly as he oh-so-slowly closed his fingers around hers. The child's flesh wasn't cold, but wasn't warm, either. Did Elrond know this? Dozens of questions came to mind, but he pushed them aside and poured all his energy, all his love into that touch, praying to Queen Elbereth that she might feel a little of it.

"Gi melin, Dailên nîn," he swallowed down a painful lump. "I will take care of you, Melui. You do not need to be afraid; we will all keep you safe, do you understand? I will never leave you and will always, always protect you." With his left hand, he lightly stroked her hair and said, "I am here now," but the movement was too much. The Elfling jerked her head away and pulled her hand from his, though her face remained impassive.

Was it foolish to wonder of his promises might break down whatever is holding this child prisoner? Perhaps, but there was still a thread of hope, and Vildan refused to

"Perhaps we might try a book?" Laniër picked up a picture book from the small stack near the toy box and handed it to him. "This is her current favorite, and she especially liked it – likes it," she corrected herself, "when I make the animal noises."

Vildan moved to sit beside her and held the book so she could see it. Elladan and Laniër discreetly moved to the table and spoke quietly together while he read it to his niece. And he read it again, making sure to imitate the ducks, geese, dogs, cats, horses, and all the other animals listed in the book. It was a bit dicey when he tried to figure out what an Oliphant sounded like, but he made his best guess.

"Do you still put your finger in your mouth when someone reads to you?" he made a silly face and sucked on the tip of his forefinger. "Like this, do you not remember, Melui? I liked to tease you about it, but can I tell you a secret?" He leaned down and whispered into her little ear. "I think it is adorable."

When Vildan came to the last page, he set the book aside and grabbed a couple more. He read to her for over an hour, pointing out the pictures like he had always done, pretending that all was as it should be. Pretending that his heart wasn't breaking.

Laniër approached and placed a hand on his upper back. "It might not seem like she is responding, but she knows it is you."

"How can you be sure?" he craned his head to meet her dark eyes.

She smiled. "Melui has always worshipped you, Mellon nîn. If anyone can help her, you can."

"I need to examine her now." Elladan came over and squatted down next to the child. "Have you thought about what you want to do with Meássë's house?"

"I have not thought that far ahead." Vildan rose to his feet and urged Laniër into the hallway. When he shut the door, he asked, "What brought you two to Elrond's Halls?"

"The night Melui..." she struggled for the right words, "'fell ill,' she woke up screaming and ran out of the house and into the street before I could stop her. Praise Varda a couple of guards happened to be nearby and caught her before she hurt herself."

"Which guard?"

"I think it was Lieutenant Thenin, one of King Thranduil's Guardians. 1 He was returning to his rooms after his shift with Eílíent, his wife."

Vildan's forehead grew tense. "What did Melui say?"

"Nothing. She was hysterical. We were afraid she had somehow injured herself and we rushed her to Lord Elrond." Laniër swallowed. "It was only a few days later that we learned that Melui's parents had been killed. I am so sorry."

His brows drew together in confusion, "I thought she was struck dumb."

"She has not spoken a word since that night, but when she is upset, she thrashes her limbs and makes guttural noises," Laniër's eyes filled as she laid her hand on his arm. "You must prepare yourself, Mellon."

"But why—"

A series of wordless shrieks were muffled by the solid wood. "Melui, Pinig, I am not trying to hurt you—" The noises grew louder accompanied by a series of soft thumps against. The door.

Vildan grabbed the knob and swung it wide. "What happened?" he demanded.

"I am sorry, Mellon." Elladan jumped to his feet and stood before them. "The minute you two were out of her sight, she became frantic."

Melui's mouth hung open in distress, and though she didn't meet his eyes, a guttural, animalistic moan escaped her lips as she rushed in between him and Laniër. His memories looked for her little face to turn upward with a big smile and hold out her arms, asking to be picked up. She did neither. Nor did she try to meet his eyes, but least she grew silent.

"This is what I was talking about," Laniër murmured. "She does not seem to do well if I am not present, so Lord Elrond had my bed moved into her room, to soothe her at night."

"But you cannot be expected to be with her every minute!"

"Meássë was my dearest friend, and I am fond of Melui," Laniër assured him. "It is no sacrifice."

"It is all right, Dailên," Vildan stroked Melui's head, and when she didn't pull away, a thin strand of hope pierced his fëa. "Tôrana Vida is here."

"I am going to move my things here today," he lifted his gaze to meet her dark, pensive eyes, "but I think she will need us both. Laniër, I know it is a lot to ask, but could you stay with us, at least for a while until she gets used to me again?"

The Elleth's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Of course, I will," she said with a wide smile.

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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:

Bain-Aur – Good morning

Dailên – "Little Beauty," Vildan's nickname for his niece, Melui.

Goltho nin, Tôrana Vida! – Teach me, Uncle Vida!

Tôrana Vida – Uncle Vildan (Melui couldn't pronounce his name fully when she learned to talk, and the name Vida stuck).

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NOTES:

1 Broken Wings, Ch. 3: /works/20519588/chapters/48867101

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