By My Side 🫂 Bard

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I had always been particularly grateful for my dearest friend. Through many hardships and perils I faced in my life, she remained by my side. Even as she watched me rescind into myself after my wife died, she remained still, looking after my three children with such care and attention. Even on this night, she remained long into the late hours to ensure my children were fed, bathed, and put to bed.

I could see faint flickers of light inside the home, and I knew the children were getting ready for bed. A brief smile adorned my face, but I cleared my expression quickly. Quietly, I meandered my way up the set of wooden stairs leading to  the door of my home. As I drew closer, I heard the giggling voice of my little Tilda. My shoulders dropped as if a weight had been taken off.

I opened the door to my home slowly, and the smell of roasted chicken wafted toward me as I peered inside. The giggles of my youngest grew louder, but the children were nowhere in sight, and I knew the sounds were coming from the children's bedroom.

So as to not draw attention to myself, I closed the door gently, and I walked slowly toward the children's room, Tilda's giggles luring me closer. Bain and Sigrid began to converse with my lovely friend, and just before reaching the threshold, I paused at something Sigrid said.

"Miss Valcyne, I do wish you could stay with us forever. Ever since Ma died, you've been like a second Ma to us."

"Oh Sigrid, while that is very kind of you to say, my intention was never to replace your Ma..."

"And you haven't! You've just become like a second Ma, that's all. We see you as family; we love you," Sigrid included.

"Yes, we love you very much!" Tilda exclaimed.

A sharp squeak sounded, and I knew Tilda had jumped on Valcyne. I chose that moment to make myself known, stepping into the room. Sigrid and Bain's faces lit up.

"Da! You're home!"

The children ran toward me then, wrapping me in their hugs. Tilda's innocent victim stood from the bed quickly, my giggly little Tilda clinging onto her. Tilda, with one arm around the woman and an arm around my neck, reached slightly with her little body to press a kiss to my cheek. I returned it, accepting the small girl into my arms. Valcyne ushered the other children to bed, and they obliged happily now that I was home—Sigrid and Bain insisted they were unable to sleep while I was gone. Tilda would stay awake as long as they were, but I knew she would go to sleep just a few minutes after the older children.

"Da, Miss Valcyne made roast the chicken and mash potatoes!" Tilda exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. She licked her lips and patted her stomach, then she leaned into my ear , "it was good, Da. You have to make her cook forever."

My dear friend, who had been talking to a sleepy Sigrid, froze, clearly having heard Tilda's innocent words. I offered my little one a smile, carrying her out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

"Now Tilda, if your words are untrue, you will have to help your sister do the washing tomorrow." Tilda, not perceiving the jest in my tone, wriggled in my arms. I set her down gently, my eyes catching a glimpse of the roasted chicken breast resting on a plate, clearly having gone cold in the time it had been sitting there.

"I was unsure as to when you would return, so the chicken is cold. I can heat it up if you'd like."

My attention was placed onto my dear friend as she entered the kitchen, immediately taking the chicken from the counter and placing it over the small wood-burning stove.

"I can eat it cold," I said futilely, knowing when my dear friend made up her mind, there was no stopping her. She sent me a sharp look, and I sat down at the table. The Valcyne women—as long as I had known them—were stubborn. They would not take the word "no" for an answer. Their stubbornness was unmatched even with the likes of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, dwarves, even Sauron. The Valcyne adamance was unlike any other. My friend was only a mild example of this, as I never took it upon myself to test the limits of her obstinate nature.

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