The little elfling snuggled in against his Ada's chest, listening to the melodic, soft singing, feeling the vibrations of the music through his body. Ada was home, Ada was singing, and everything was happy and lovely in his little world. His delicate face softened into a beautiful happy smile, and above him, the face of his Ada smiled the same smile back and cuddled him a little closer for a moment.

There was another voice in the background, higher, the words faster than his father's slow song, the sounds clipped. He didn't understand half the words, he wasn't supposed to anyway, and he tried not to hear Nana. She always sang this song, mostly when Ada was home, although lately she had started singing it to Bau', too.

Ada continued the song. He always did that, never left off in the middle of a song-tale.

Canadion, elfling that he was, of course, didn't know Ada did it mostly because it made Nana crosser. All he knew was Ada was home, cuddling him, singing to him, giving him every bit of his notice, stroking his hair, cradling him in warm and soft. His eyes flickered open, and just before the nictitating membranes slid over, the little one's father saw the golden edges to his brown irises glinting.

The elfling had his father's eyes, his father's chestnut hair, his easy temperament, his smile. Such a happy little fëa, this one! And so trusting, so easily consoled and comforted.

The song ended on a softly drawn out note, and the elfling's father wished there were more verses, because now the little one's mother came to stand in the doorway and fold her arms across her chest, glowering. No scowl so fierce ever graced the face of a warrior preparing for battle… really, she ought to have been a guard, with such a stern bearing and determined will, and perhaps, had she been born in days when there was more need for fighting strength and less need to build up the population…

As it was, she was of the merchant class, very good at trade and drove a hard bargain, even with her husband, he thought, trying not to let his wistfulness show on his face.

'Well, Merenor?'

'Yes, Cullasbes?'

'Will you speak to Baudh?'

'Since you wish it, I suppose I must. Yes, I will talk to him when he gets home.'

'I am grateful. Give the little one to me, I'll put him to bed.'

She held out her arms and Merenor had to exercise great control not to hold the little one more tightly in response.

'No, leave him be,' he said lightly. 'He's doing no harm here, and we're both enjoying it.'

Cullasbes sniffed, and sought something else to find fault with.

'You know, I wish you wouldn't sing those songs to him!'

'But they're traditional! And he loves the Storm Song, especially on loud nights...'

'Well. I suppose... but not the stories, Merenor, no more of those tales of the Valar riding through the forest – you'll frighten him!'

'What, when I talk of the wind soughing across the ventilation shafts and say it isn't wargs come to get us, but the horns of Oromë reminding us he's riding abroad to keep us safe? How is that frightening?'

'It's one of your old Elk-trainer tales; it has no place in the palace...'

'But I worked amongst the old Elk-trainers, my dear; does that mean I have no place here?'

'You are no longer with the Elk-tamers!'

Merenor sighed.

'I know it. Ai, they were good days, you know.'

'But from before you went into trade with me; don't you think it time you left it behind you and embraced our way of life?'

'Can I not do both? Respect the ways of my forebears and yet still acknowledge I live in a more modern world?'

'It looks as if your loyalties are divided; how are our business partners meant to trust you if they see your heart isn't in the work?'

'Maybe you should do it, then,' Merenor said. 'Leave me with the boys and you make the journeys...'

'No, it would not work; some of the Men we trade with do not accept ellith as business persons.'

The little one stirred and murmured as he edged more deeply into reverie, and Merenor hummed another verse of the song to settle him.

'Merenor! Not an Elk-handlers' song!'

'Oh, you would prefer I sang to our son from the ditties I hear along the way with the wagons?' he asked mildly. 'There is a rather wonderful one about a lady with tattoos who is famed through the land... apparently she is an illustrated marvel, full of educational opportunities... shall I...? Her name is Lydia, and it goes...'

'Merenor!' Cullasbes hissed. 'Not in front of the elfling!'

Merenor smiled.

'Just as you please,' he said.

Cullasbes retreated to an inner room, leaving Merenor in possession of his youngest son and the seat by the fire. Baudh, his second son would be home soon, and he rather thought Cullasbes would stay out of the way until he'd had the promised conversation... of course, he hadn't told her what he was going to say, which was probably just as well because, patient and easy going though he was, there were some subjects on which he held very decided opinions...

His eldest son, Caraphindir, had trained as a scribe but instead of putting his skills to use in the business as Cullasbes had expected, had moved away not long after he reached adulthood to teach elflings in one of the villages in the south. He was reserved, and shy, and sometimes Merenor wondered if the atmosphere at home hadn't suited him. Certainly, it didn't suit Merenor.

Baudh, the second son, was by nature everything Caraphindir wasn't; bold, and laughing, and perhaps a little silly, Merenor's happy nature taken a little too far... he'd not been happy of late, though, something was bothering him... he'd a minor position with the Royal Household, care of the King's Horses, something like that. Cullasbes heard only the 'Royal'; Merenor heard only 'horses', and as his son had inherited his own love of animals, knew he was happy in his work.

He bounced in a few minutes later.

'Ada! You're home!'

Merenor smiled and laid a finger across his lips, glancing down at his sleeping armful.

'Baudh, my son, yes. You look well?'

'I am, well, I am happy, it's the same thing...' Out of deference to his sleeping little brother, he lowered his voice and dropped onto the settle near his father's chair. 'Our king is getting a new elk; finally, one's been found that seems to fit his majesty's requirements; a big, red fellow – so few of the silver ones born lately – Fire Foot, they are calling him around the stables, but of course, they don't know his lineage...'

'No, of course; they probably only know he isn't a horse because of the funny little trees on his head, yes…? Go on?'

Baudh rattled off a string of names that meant nothing to anyone who hadn't spent time around the elk herds. But Merenor nodded at each 'out of' and every 'by', as he built up a picture in his mind of the new elk.

'Six points?'

Baudh nodded enthusiastically.

'Yes, carries them well, too; he's going to have a lot of power behind him... they've asked me to look at gentling him a bit, which is insulting to the Royal Elk Tamers – they know their business.'

'So you'll just have to gentle the stable hands instead… Better not tell your mother, though, you know what she's like...'

'About working with elk? Yes, but...'

Merenor dropped his voice.

'No, about gentling stable hands...'

Baudh clapped a hand across his face to keep in a giggle as his father winked at him.

'Adar...!'

Merenor grinned.

'Well? Are there any nice ones?'

'Oh, Father, I...'

Cullasbes came to the door.

'There you are, Baudh! I've asked your father to have a little chat with you...'

'We have, dear,' Merenor said quickly. 'We've been chatting. It's been a lovely chat, really...'

'You Know What About...' she said sternly.

'I'm working up to it.'

'Hello, Naneth,' Baudh said. 'Is there anything you need help with? Errands, perhaps?'

'You just listen to your father.'

'Yes, Naneth.'

'My son, your mother tells me she thinks the second daughter of her friend Brasbes would be a good choice of wife...'

'Cugwen?'

Merenor shrugged.

'I don't see it myself either, to be honest, but...'

'There are good connections in the family for the business,' Cullasbes pointed out. 'It will strengthen bonds of friendship between us. And they know us well enough to be understanding.'

'Now, a moment there, Cullasbes!' Merenor said, gentling his voice because of the sleeping Canadion but glaring at the mother of his sons. 'Why would we need people to be understanding?'

She had the grace to flush.

'I only meant... Anyway, you said you would talk to our son!'

'I did so. Baudh, if you want a wife from an apparently understanding family, one who will further your naneth's business ambitions, you could do worse than to marry Cugwen. But if you don't want a wife, then I shouldn't bother, if I were you.'

'...Adar?'

'After all, Caraphindir isn't married, and he's the oldest...'

'Melion is married,' Cullasbes pointed out. 'And I fail to see...'

'Yes, you really do fail to see, don't you? Melion found a person he loved, and who loved him. They both wanted to be vowed, and not her family, nor his family, could have prevented it. But it's different...'

'Very different, Merenor, or are you blind and deaf to your son's proclivities?'

'Which son?' he asked, hating the shame he could see growing in Baudh's eyes. 'Caraphindir is not married, not in love; why should he marry?'

'But I am not talking about Caraphindir...'

'Then why must Baudh marry just to please you? He is not in love... at least, Baudh?'

Baudh shook his head.

'He needs a wife!'

'No, Cullasbes, he doesn't. Perhaps he needs a sweetheart, a fëa-mate. But he doesn't need to be tidied away in some pretence of marriage to an elleth he doesn't care about and who probably doesn't care about him; or if she does, she'll end up breaking her heart, and his, because with the best will in the world, Cullasbes, you can't get milk from a bull. No, that metaphor is the wrong way round, I think, but you know what I mean. Now, I suggest we leave the young people to sort out their own love lives, because the Valar know, we have no right to interfere!'

Cullasbes sniffed and stuck her nose in the air.

'I had better go and tell Brasbes there will be a little delay...'

'Tell her from me I withhold my parental consent and will do until my last breath,' Merenor said. 'Unless you really are in love with the lass, Baudh?'

Baudh shook his head, eyes wide.

'That's settled, then,' Merenor said. 'Enjoy your visit, Cullasbes.'

She stalked to the door and almost would have slammed it, but remembered the sleeping elfling in time. Merenor saw the change of plan and sighed.

'You know, it's a pity; if she'd woken your little brother, I could have sung him another traditional Elk-tamer song... Now, Baudh, now she's gone...'

'Ada, I am sorry, I just do not like any of the ellith naneth finds for me, in fact, I do not think I will ever find an elleth I can love, I do not know why, I think maybe she might have died somewhere or...'

'Or maybe you just prefer ellyn.' Merenor said. 'True, it's not hard to like ellyn better than the daughters of your naneth's friends – they're a scary lot at the best of times... but I think it might be otherwise. Although, perhaps you have not thought about that yet, and I may just have frightened you, if so…'

'You know?'

'Well… I had an inkling, but I didn't want to impose my ideas on you in case I was wrong. But now, I think perhaps, you do not like ellith because ellyn are more your taste... I wasn't entirely joking when I mentioned gentling stable hands, you know.'

'And you do not mind?'

'Of course I don't mind; it's no secret that your mother and I were not a meeting of hearts and souls… they said it was unlikely we would ever find our true fëa-mates, and as I desperately wanted to have children, it seemed an acceptable compromise at the time. But I would have my sons follow their hearts, wherever that leads them.'

Merenor sighed. He really, really wanted just to say, 'besides, you take after me, penneth; I do not like elleth either…' but one of the many concessions he had made when he took vows with Cullasbes was that he would not speak of his preferences. It had started out as respect for the mother of his elflings, that she wouldn't be talked about as not chosen for love, but then Cullasbes had said it might not be good for trade, and they needed to provide for their growing family, and before he knew it, Merenor found it a forbidden subject entirely.

Besides, since he had taken vows he had stayed true to them; however much he might wish to find a more congenial partner, he had promised the Valar he would honour his commitments. To bring up the matter now would be to invite too many questions, perhaps put him in the way of temptation, possibly even cause problems for his beloved sons in a society that was not as accepting as it had been at one point. He did his best, though, to drop hints here and there to Baudh, and took the opportunity now to offer him some advice.

'But, Baudh, penneth, such arrangements as your mother and I have do not suit everyone. Which is why I advise you not to marry or take vows...' Merenor sighed. 'You will start out with the best of intentions, respecting and liking each other, but time will pass and every disappointment will feel like an accusation and in the finish you will only ever get on well if one or other of you is either just returned from somewhere else, or just setting off somewhere else... If you are fortunate, you will manage to have elflings, but you might be quite glad you can ask the Valar, and so not have to go against your nature too often...Baudh, my very dear son... I love you, and you brothers, very much. However difficult things become, I can look around me and see four wonderful ellyn, each one special and perfect, each one infinitely precious, and then, yes, then I know it has been worth it. But that's no reason for you to marry an elleth your mother chose for you... if I didn't have your brother in my arms, I'd hug you right now, Baudh...'

Baudh found himself smiling.

'Can I remind you later, Ada?' he asked.