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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
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SUMMARY: Vildan is still asleep, so we're going to see how Bard fares after such a nasty fall. We'll also see how Rhian fares when Dale is visited by an honored guest. Legolas has been worried about his sister, so he decides to pay her a visit.
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"It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart."
-Rainer Maria Rilke
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City of Dale, 28th of April 2946 T.A.
Bard was stirring with a soft moan as Thranduil entered their bedchamber with a strong cup of sweet tea.
"You are awake, I see." He set the mug down and sat facing him. "How do you feel?"
"Mmmm…" Bard winced, his voice rough. "I did it again, didn't I?"
"Certainly not on purpose." Thranduil smoothed the tangled black locks away from his face. "I should have known something like this was going to happen, and taken precautions."
"Great. Now you have to plan in case I lose my shit?" After the Elf gave him a look, Bard rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry, love. I just…it's humiliating."
"Being sensitive is not a bad thing, Meleth nîn. You taught me this, as well as helped me not to hide my feelings."
"Thranduil," Bard sat up further and let Thranduil prop him up with pillows before he grabbed his cup. "There's a difference between expressing your feelings and fainting dead away. I made an arse of myself!"
"To whom?" Thranduil rested his hand on Bard's leg. "No one was in the courtyard but our family and our guards, and they know better than to gossip." A smile angled across his mouth. "At least Hilda and the children are not mad at you anymore."
"Small mercies," Bard blew on his tea and took a sip. "How long have I been out?"
Thranduil pointed to the window, where the crescent moon peeked through the small diamond-shaped panes. "Six hours."
"Are you serious?"
"You hit your head rather hard, Meleth nîn. I brought you up here and checked you for a concussion—which you had—and took down the swelling on your brain before it had a chance to do any damage. Daeron has come and gone twice now, but he is satisfied that, despite a headache, you will be fine. There is some willow bark in that tea, as well as a bit of poppy juice. You are to stay abed for two days; no arguments." Bard's bewildered stare reminded the Elvenking of Legolas when he was a child.
"Oh, shit. Is Tilda upset?"
Thranduil hesitated, then decided the truth was best. "She is afraid you are still angry with her. Hilda and I convinced her she had done nothing wrong, that you just get…excited when something out of the ordinary happens to them."
"Like how I get sick if I see any of them bleeding?"
"That did come up, yes," Thranduil gave him a quick kiss and rose. "Are you ready to eat something?"
Bard rubbed his stomach and made a face. "No, but it'll get worse if I drink this on an empty stomach. How about a couple of slices of bread?"
"I will see to it."
The food came a few minutes later, but it wasn't brought by a servant.
"Let me take that, Tithen pen," Thranduil said softly as he took the tray. "I think your Da is anxious to see you."
Tilda's blue eyes darted over to the bed as she nervously picked at her lower lip. "Are you sure?"
With an encouraging smile, the Elvenking leaned down and whispered, "Da is afraid you are still mad at him. Are you?"
Their daughter shook her head and took a tentative step toward the bed.
"It's all right," Bard waved her over with a smile. "Come here, Beanie."
With a grin, Tilda tore across the room, clambered onto the high bed and threw herself at him. "Are you okay, Da?" She said against his neck as he wrapped her tightly in his arms.
"Oh, don't worry about me." Bard tucked her head under his chin and rubbed her back. "Da just needs to learn how to handle surprises better, yeah?"
"So, you're not mad at me anymore?"
Bard kissed the top of her head. "I was never mad at you; I just get afraid sometimes. But that's my problem, not yours."
"Why?"
"I guess it's a Da thing. But you know I will always love you, right?"
And just like that, all was right with Thranduil's world again.
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888
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City of Dale, 13th of May 2946 T.A.
"My Ladies," the guard stood in the doorway to Hilda and Rhian's study. "Radagast had just entered the South Gates and is currently being escorted up to the courtyard."
Hilda's eyes narrowed as she studied her assistant's reaction. Rhian was still unsure what could be done with this gift that Lord Elrond had so mysteriously alluded to. [1] After her setback a few months later, they all agreed to give her some time to settle into her new life, and didn't bring it up.[2]
But this day had to come sooner or later, and the poor girl looked poleaxed.
"Are you going to be all right, lovey?" Hilda tilted her head and gave her a worried smile.
Rhian's chin bobbed a bit too quickly, but she was trying. "I think so. I just wish Daeron were here."
"Bard said he'd send word the minute Radagast entered the city."
"Oh, thank the stars," Rhian exhaled as she worried the fabric of her skirt. "It's stupid, I know. But—"
"It isn't stupid, at all! Everybody gets scared of the unknown, but just think on this: you trust Daeron not to let anything bad happen to you, aye? And no matter how much he trusts Radagast or Gandalf or even the Kings, if your husband thinks you're having a hard time, he'll tell them all sod off and leave you alone, right? Right?"
"Right." Despite Rhian's shaky voice, she managed a small smirk. "And who will be the second?"
"Me, of course!" Hilda wrinkled her nose. "And you know when I get done with them, they're gonna wish they'd never been born,"
"But…what if I get," Rhian licked her lips, "…you know."
"You won't." Hilda grabbed her hands and gave them a comforting squeeze. "You are stronger now than you have ever been—anyone can see that. Just promise me, promise yourself, that if you start to feel depressed again, tell someone. You know I'll always listen. Now," Hilda stepped back to smooth down her skirts, and, after eyeing Rhian from her head to her toes, licked her fingers and smoothed a stray curl away from her face. "My lands, but you're pale!" she grabbed her cheeks and pinched some color into them. "We don't want you looking all pasty, do we?" And for good measure, she did her own cheeks.
"That's much better. Now remember: you're a smart, brave girl, and you'll do great. Are you ready?"
She took Rhian by the hand, led her down the corridor to the vestibule in front of the Grand Staircase, where everyone was waiting.
Ben was looking sharp in his best outfit, was whispering to Evan, Llewelyn and Alun. When he spied Rhian and Hilda, and his eyes lit up.
"There you are!" he stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Are you ready, sweetheart?"
"Not really," she said, hooking her arm around her Da's elbow. "But it can't be as bad as what I've been imagining."
Ben patted her hand. "Nobody's going to harm a hair on your head, I promise."
Hilda stepped over to Percy, who kissed her on the cheek. "Ready, my love?"
"Aye," she squeezed his hand and gestured with her chin toward her assistant. "Rhian's nervous."
"Can't say I blame her, but we'll keep an eye out."
One of the giant doors opened to admit Daeron, who rushed over to his wife and took her in his arms.
"He will, too," Percy whispered in Hilda's ear.
As soon as they stepped on the dais to wait, the wind kicked up Bard's hair, and Thranduil tried in vain to tame it into some semblance of order.
"You should have tied it back, before you put your circlet on," sighed the Elvenking. "I cannot do anything with this now."
Another problem was that Bard's formal attire, including his blue cape with the red lining, was not really suited for warm temperatures. After weeks of cold rain, it was nice to stand in the sun and enjoy the weather, but the King of Dale was growing impatient. And hot.
Radagast might appear simple and raggedy, but, he was a Wizard, and—according to Gandalf—a great one. He was also a Maia, a creature that existed before the world was created, and that deserved as much respect as the King of Dale could present. [3]
"Where is he?" Bard tugged at the collar of his tunic. "Shouldn't he have been here by now?"
Thranduil chuckled softly. "If he is delayed, it is always for a good reason." He jostled the bowman's shoulder and teased, "Do you feel faint, Meleth nîn?"
"Oh, shut up," Bard scowled.
"I did suggest you wear your blue tunic and leave off the cape."
"I wanted to look nice."
"You always look nice, Meleth nîn." The Elvenking leaned into him and murmured, "especially when you are wearing nothing."
"Don't tempt me," Bard blew out a breath, and reached for his gold clasp—
"Bard!" Hilda hissed, eyes blazing. "Don't you dare!"
"Do you want me to faint again? I'm still recovering from a head injury, here."
"You are not," she retorted. "Quit being such a baby."
"I wonder," said Bard, as he undid the clasp at his throat and took of his cape, "Do other Kings get such grief from their families?"
"If you are truly worried about it," Thranduil quirked a thick, dark eyebrow, "you can always ask Ecthelion when he comes next month." [4]
"Very funny," Bard handed the cape off to Legron. "Can you just toss that inside?"
"I will not," the Elf said, hiding a grin, "but I will see that it gets taken care of."
"Thanks." Bard pulled off his crown, for good measure. "Take this, too."
"Yes, My Lord."
Hilda's eyes rolled skyward and entreated the heavens with a loud sigh. "Why do I try?"
"Because you like to yell at me," Bard gave her a rakish grin. "And because you love me."
"Oops! Here they come," Percy called out. Heads up, people!"
The Kings descended the steps to meet their guest. Radagast the Brown, also known as Aiwendil barely resembled the scattered, scruffy old man they had known five years ago. His long hair and beard were clean and smooth, as was his coffee-colored robe, adorned with yellow topaz and other gems along the collar. He wore no hat today, but he seemed proud of his new staff, which was similar in size and shape as the one he gave Gandalf.
"My Lord Radagast," Bard bowed his head. "Welcome to New Dale; we're honored to have you."
"Hello, hello!" the wizard swept his arms out with a wide, happy smile. "I am delighted to see you all again! How are you?"
"We are very well," Thranduil saluted, then embraced his friend. "What do you think of my husband's kingdom since the Battle?"
"It's astounding what you've done here!" Radagast turned in a circle and shook his head. "I hardly recognize the place. It's just as lovely as I remember in the old days. It's wonderful to hear the bells again, isn't it?"
"It certainly is," said the Elvenking.
"We couldn't have done it without Thranduil's help," The King of Dale led the way up to the dais and signaled for the doors to be opened. "Let's all go inside, shall we?"
Bard took them all to the large receiving room for refreshments and introductions.
"You remember my Steward, Percy, and his wife Hilda?"
"Of course, of course," the wizard took Hilda's hand in both of his with wink and a laugh. "I hope I will pass your inspection?"
Hilda mumbled an apology, but Radagast waved it off with nonchalance, gave her a conspiratorial wink and drew near.
"'All that glitters is not gold,'" he quoted, and with a conspiratorial wink he whispered. "Remind me to tell you a story about that, my dear,"
"This I've got to hear," Percy smirked.
"Pull yourself together," she jabbed him hard in the ribs, just Greta came into the room and nodded at Hilda. "We've put your things in one of our guest rooms, and Lewis and Greta have a nice spread set up in our formal dining room. Let's go make ourselves comfortable, shall we?"
"That sounds wonderful," Radagast smiled, and followed the Seneschal and her husband.
While they waited for the meal to be served, they gathered in the large receiving room, where Bard continued with the introductions. "This is Ben, our City Planner, and his assistant, Llewelyn."
The Wizard turned to them in delight. "So, it is you who have brought Dale to life again?"
Ben stepped forward and clasped the wizard's wrist. "I can't take much credit; we tried to keep to the original plans with a few improvements, but everyone pulling together is what got it built."
"I'm sure, I'm sure," Radagast agreed sincerely. "And you are Rhian's adopted father? How wonderful for all of you! I'm told you were also recently married."
"To a wonderful woman named Hannah, yes. Unfortunately, she can't be here today, but she remembers your kindness after the Battle, and asked me to thank you again for all those herbs for the wounded."
"It was the least I could do; I'm glad they helped." After greeting Alun and Evan, Radagast turned to Daeron, who saluted and put his arm around his wife and gazed down at her proudly.
"Oh, my dear," he took her hand and kissed it. "I have been looking forward to meeting you."
"Thank you," she said in a small, shaky voice, and quickly curtsied.
He let go of her hand and lifted her chin to face him. "You have nothing to fear. In fact, by summer's end, you and I will be very good friends." He tilted his head and regarded her with a smile. "The flowers along the streets sang about your loveliness, but I can see they hardly do you justice."
"They…sing about me?" her eyes bulged.
"Of course they do, child," he gave her hand a squeeze. "They also tell me of your garden at home?"
"It is the best in the City," Daeron said proudly.
"I would love to see it, if that is all right with you?"
She bit her lip and nodded. "When do you want to start?"
"Shall we start in two days' time? Tomorrow I'm hoping your King will give me a tour of the city?"
"We both will," Bard said. "Did you know Thranduil painted the murals here?"
"How delightful!" Radagast gave the Elvenking a knowing smile. "Just as in Old Dale!" [5]
Thranduil nodded modestly but he looked pleased.
"So," Radagast turned back to Rhian, "my dear, try and relax. You will set the pace; no one will force you into anything you aren't sure of. Do you remember when your son learned to walk? He began small steps, yes? That is how you and I will work together. Does that suit?"
"Oh, yes," she let out a relieved breath, and Bard could see the tension leaving her posture.
"I must compliment you, Radagast," Thranduil's mouth lifted into a smug smile. "You, as they say here, 'clean up nicely.'"
"It's a nice change, isn't it?" he turned around to show off his outfit. To Hilda he said, "The rags, believe it or not, are a useful ruse."
"How so?" Hilda asked.
"People like to confuse chaos with a lack of intelligence, don't you agree? And when folk see someone look all disheveled, many of them don't see the need to guard their tongues around me."
Thranduil smothered a grin, but Bard was intrigued.
"So," Bard's eyes narrowed. "When you were wandering around the tents after the Battle, you…"
"I was a spy, hidden in plain sight!" Radagast cheeks lifted in a grin. "Gandalf asked me to keep an ear out for trouble. Most folk at that time were thankful to survive, but there were a few who wanted to throw Bard over for one of the old master's guards."
"It was Braga, wasn't it?" Bard's eyebrow rose in suspicion.
"And three of his friends," Thranduil admitted.
"I wondered what happened to him," said Bard. "What did you do?"
Radagast did nothing." The Elvenking shrugged with a pleasant grin. "Mithrandir and I had a… discussion with them, and convinced them that they might be happier elsewhere."
"'Happier?'" the King of Dale put his hands on his hips. "You actually used that word?"
"Erm… Not quite," he bit his lip. "But one can assume they would be happy to still have legs and arms?"
"You didn't!" Hilda's hand flew to her mouth.
"Oh, they most certainly did," Radagast tittered. "Gandalf escorted them out of the camp, and put a spell on their horses and they barely stayed in the saddle! It was great fun to watch!"
"I love it!" Percy grinned and clapped his hands.
"Well, I'm glad he didn't turn them in to a lizard or something," Bard sighed.
"Funny you should mention lizards," Thranduil tucked his lips under.
By this time, Percy was holding his stomach and laughing into Hilda's shoulder.
"Pull yourself together," she jabbed him hard in the ribs, just Greta came into the room and nodded at Hilda. "Lunch is served, everyone," she rose and urged everyone to stand. "Radagast, we put your things in one of our guest rooms, and Lewis and Greta have a nice spread set up in our formal dining room. Let's go make ourselves comfortable, shall we?"
"That sounds wonderful," Radagast smiled, and followed the Seneschal and her husband inside.
The late lunch of fish and vegetables was followed by a fruit cake to which Lewis endowed with copious amounts of rum. The Brown Wizard ate three slices, and after sending his compliments to the staff, was given two more. This put him in a jolly mood as he was taken upstairs to Bard's private sitting from to visit with the rest of the family. The younger ones, home from school, were settled on the floor with cushions with their own dessert (alcohol-free)while the adults enjoyed an after-dinner drink.
"Ada says you put his trees to sleep," Tilda said, lifting a forkful of cake to her mouth.
"That's correct, child," Radagast smiled down at her.
"When will you wake them up?"
"When the time is right."
"Only when they get better?"
"This is true. We do not want them to feel sick, do we? This way they are comfortable, and the time will pass quickly for them."
"I wish it was quick for everybody. Could that sickness get to Ada's palace?"
"Thankfully no, my dear. Your Ada's people and I have worked hard to stop the spread."
"This is true, Tithen pen," Thranduil rested his tea in the saucer on his lap. "My people have held the line, and it has not moved for six hundred years. In fact, since Lady Galadriel cleansed the Dol Guldur, the forest is enjoying improved health."
"Have you ever been to that part of the forest, child?" Radagast
"Nuh uh," Tilda shook her head.
"'No,'" Thranduil corrected.
"No," she repeated. "Sorry. Anyway, we're going to see Lady Gallerdil in August for the wedding, and I suppose I'll see it then."
Thranduil opened his mouth, but Hilda beat him to it. "That's Galadriel, lovey."
"Oh, nonsense," the wizard corrected both adults with an absent flip of his hand. "I happen to know the Lady delights in her special nickname, Tilda. She would be sad if you called her anything else."
Bain finished with his cake and milk and entered the conversation. "Did Tilda tell you she got your message?"
"There was no need. The thrush returned and told me." At Bard's grimace, Radagast said, "I hear you didn't take it well."
Bard felt his face get hot. "I'm afraid not, but I'll get used to it. I think in these times, we need all the help we can get, right?"
The brown wizard said nothing, but studied their youngest child with regarded her with a watchful curiosity that made Bard nervous.
And through their bond, he could sense that Thranduil felt the same way.
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888
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15th of May 2946 T.A.
Legolas normally stayed three weeks at the Palace, and one week in Dale, but since the attack, he made the trip every other week to keep an eye on his sister.
At the moment, he and Tauriel were leaning on the fence observing the Meara and her foal, under the watchful eye of their new guard dogs.
"Radagast came to see them yesterday," Tauriel said.
"I asked him to. What did he say, after?"
"Only that their nervousness will not last, but he did say that Trastapîn will only suffer one rider."
"Who is?"
"He did not know."
"I am sure he knows," Legolas grinned with wry amusement, "but chooses not to say.
"My concern is you, Gwathel," he dropped his arms and turned to face her. "I cannot help but feel responsible for your pain, Tauriel. If I had any idea you would be put through all of this, I would never have encouraged Vildan."
"You could not have known," she said quietly. "And to be honest, I do not regret our friendship."
"It was more than friendship, and we both know that."
"Still, I think I am better for knowing him," she rested her chin in her hand. "I wrote him and told him what happened."
"Has he written back?"
She shook her head. "Not yet."
"Do you think he will?"
"From the sound of things, Imladris has his own troubles. If I do not hear from him, I am sure it is for a good reason."
"Gwinïg," Legolas rested his hand upon her arm. "It has not even been a year; do not be so quick to believe he is gone forever."
"But I need to tell myself that," Tauriel blinked rapidly. "Otherwise, my heart aches with such longing, I cannot bear it."
"I am truly sorry," he rubbed her arm.
"Oh!" she laughed through her tears and wiped her eyes. "Enough of this! Talk to me of something pleasant!"
Legolas eyed an Elven couple in the distance. "Look over there," he pointed. "Who would have ever thought our Galion would behave so?"
And, indeed, Galion and Rogon were walking hand-in-hand laughing at some private joke, their faces radiant with the afternoon sun and the love they shared.
"I think it is wonderful," Tauriel murmured.
"I cannot get used to it! All our lives he has been calm, efficient and…steady, I suppose is the proper word. No matter what was happening, we always knew we could go to him for guidance and reassurance."
"We could," Tauriel agreed. "Ada tells me he was the same when he was a child. He also said Galion was more of a father to us than he was."
"It's true," the prince agreed, eyes lowered. "And when we are at the Palace, he is the same as he always was, but now that he is married to Rôgon, he is impetuous, emotional—"
"—and unpredictable?" Tauriel's mouth struggled to hide a smile.
"Yes! Exactly!" Legolas cried. "It might be selfish, but I am not sure I like this."
Tauriel covered her mouth, and her shoulders shook.
"What is so funny?"
"You," she giggled. "Are you not supposed to be the older, wiser brother?"
"Of course, I am." His brows drew together in a scowl. "And I still do not see why you laugh at me."
"Because it proves my theory that you have more brawn than brains," she tittered. "I love you dearly, but you can be so obtuse at times."
Legolas crossed his arms. "And you are not?"
"Not about this. Galion has always been in the background, taking care of us, and the Palace, and making sure Ada's work goes smoothly."
"I know this. So?"
"Do you not see? He does not have to be anything with Rôgon but himself. Galion can be vulnerable, or frightened, or excited, or…anything, really. Rôg loves him all the more for it." Her smile drifted away, and she grew serious. "Would that we all had someone like that."
"We do," Legolas put his arm around her and kissed her temple. "I may not be Vildan, but you can always be yourself with me, and Valar help anyone who thinks they can hurt you."
"I can protect myself," Tauriel jutted her chin up at him.
"In combat, yes," he said softly. "But until someone better comes along, you know your heart is safe with me, and with Ada, and with all of us. You are loved, Tauriel."
Later, after everyone went to bed, Legolas paced for a while, considering. Then, having made up his mind, he sat at his desk, took out paper and ink, and wrote a letter, praying he was doing the right thing.
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ELVEN TRANSLATIONS:
Gwathel - sister
Gwinïg – "Little Fingers" a pet name for Tauriel; when she was little, she got into everything.
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NOTES:
[1] Legolas, Ion nîn, Ch 42: /works/17088320/chapters/48543257
[2] Broken Wings, Ch. 7: /works/20519588/chapters/49598510
[3] /wiki/Maia
[4] SCOM, Ch. 23: /works/26090521/chapters/82748683
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[5] An Invincible Summer, Ch. 1: /works/14127870/chapters/32556594