This story is done in conjunction with Losille2000 who has offered me many amounts of great advice, and is in the style of Indilisse and Haldir, her most beloved and cherished characters to write, and mine to read. Check out a new story by her coming soon, involving Indilisse and Haldir in an entirely new plot! That is always sure to bring new and interesting things, since this story's updating will be very slow, as my main focus is the co-written story Confessions listed under Losille's account.

Chapter 1- Families

The ellyth rose early to tend to the morning meals and to their children already waking for a long day of play with other Elflings and also of learning facilitated by their parents. Some of the Elflings even escaped the grasps of their parents before the morning meal to go investigate new things about the forest with their friends, and would disappear for the day, glad to be away from anything even resembling parchment and bound books. Their mother's would shake their head and laugh at them as they ran down the stairs toward an open field for running and chasing. And then there were the wardens who had returned to the city for a leave who had already been down to the training field to practice their archery, swordsmanship and battle readiness tactics. Soon after the tea had been set to brew on the fires in each talan, the rest of ellon- from smiths to courtiers alike- would arise and dress for a hard day working at each of their respective trades.

To many of these wardens' families, though, it was a time of solitude and reflection at the morning meal instead of happy, joyous talking or friendly fighting between other members of the elite warden patrols. Around the table at the meal, the Elflings would eat in quiet, watching their father at one end converse in low tones with their mother beside him. After they had spoken for awhile of wishes and of their devotion to each other, he would turn to his children and give them each a task they were to complete by the time of his return to the city, even if he did not return. This was a time of great respect for their father's calling as a warden, and no child of a warden ever took the ramifications of these days lightly.

Hardly did the Elves ever see battles on the borders that they could not win, but many times it resulted in the loss of life for a few of their fellow wardens. And there was no telling who this would be, should they come into battle. So it was morose and quiet on the mornings new patrols left the city, no one really prepared to see their loved ones go, especially after the last war against Sauron still fresh in each Elf's mind. There would be time for rejoicing when the patrol returned safe and sound, but in the current air of uncertainty in the world, there was no telling what could happen with the wardens out on the borders.

It was the friendship and bonds that each wife and child shared with other families of the wardens in the same patrol that kept them from being too worrisome about their husbands and fathers. These close-knit friendships with each other that were spawned from the ellon relying on each other for camaraderie and each other's like protection should they be engaged in battle day in and day out, led to a familial atmosphere, even though they may not be related in any way. And it was the "family's" vow to join together, in the event of something going terribly wrong, that kept many an Elf of fading from grief.

Once the wardens had gone on their way, life would again go back to normal with chores and learning and playing to be had, with only a slight remembrance that their fathers, husbands, and even sons were off protecting their great land.

It started out like any other day, a normal day, for the families of Lórien. Except for this house...

"You are starting early this morning, Laereth."

The young elleth jumped slightly, not having heard her father approach from behind. She turned to him, feeling a blush creep to her cheeks, embarrassed that she had been so easily startled, but also because her father had caught her writing when she should be preparing for the morning meal before he left for the borders. "I am sorry, Ada."

He laughed and sat down beside her at the wooden table, with a clay cup full of tea that he had made himself, "You are awake early, pen neth."

"So are you, Adar," she smiled, testing the ink upon the parchment she had written on for it's dryness before closing the leather bound journal.

"You know I do not rest on these nights," her father sighed. He looked over her for a long while before meeting her eyes and holding her gaze, "You have grown too quickly for my taste."

Laereth giggled, "Too quickly? I thought I had not grown quickly enough for you with all the trouble I have put you and Naneth through."

"You know that is not true. And that incident in Lord Amroth's secret pool was not that horrible, though you think it so," he smiled. "I think you gave Lord Amroth a laugh when he needed it most."

"I still think of it every time I see of Lord Amroth, Adar. It was so embarrassing," she closed her eyes for a moment, remembering that day. "Haldir does not seem to care that I am embarrassed about it either."

He took a long sip of his tea and then let out a low laugh, "I find it hard to think that Haldir would care about being embarrassed, whether it was he who should be embarrassed, or even his closest friend. He is very much like his father. And Orthordir thinks such emotions are frivolous and should not be fretted over."

She laughed, "It's acceptable, though. Afterwards I complained about it to him. And when he would not listen, I yelled."

"Elbereth forbid that any Elf should have to hear you complain and yell all in the same sitting," he joked.

"Ada..." she warned, scoffing and then pouting.

"It is a flaw your mother gave you," he continued along in a joking manner, but that earned him a sufficient smack to the back of his head as her mother entered the room and crossed over to the fire to pour herself some tea.

After pouring the liquid, she walked over to the table to sit opposite Laereth and smiled. "So I see you and your father have been conspiring already this morning."

"There has been absolutely no conspiring this morning, Branneth," her father spoke as sweetly and lovingly he could.

"Talking in such a manner will not save you now, Ruscon," her mother warned in a flat tone, but her lips curled into a smile after a few moments. "Shall I wake Cuileth so that you may deal with her this morning as your punishment."

He chuckled and stood from his seat, "You need not punish me, meleth. I will tend to her on my own."

When her father disappeared to rouse the resting babe, her mother turned to her and sighed, "This should be very interesting."

"Nana..." Laereth said, but heard a loud squeal come from the far room and then a blood-curdling cry. "Aye, I guess you are correct."

Soon, her father appeared, attempting to reposition Cuileth's small body in the blanket he had brought with them, but the Elf-babe was having nothing of it, kicking her arms and legs about defiantly. Her mother, obviously feeling a great amount of pity for him, stood up and removed the child from his arms. "You know waking her is the worst part."

Laereth's father rolled his eyes and sat back down at the table. "Our other children were not as ill-behaved as Cuileth is."

"That is because she is the youngest," Branneth laughed. "Tuilinn has the same troubles with Rúmil. I am sure Orthordir has spoken to you about it."

"He has," her father sighed and watched as Cuileth was maneuvered about and took to their mother's breast. Again, her father turned to her and motioned to the leather-bound book in front of her. "What were you writing?"

"Just some things I have been thinking of recently," Laereth replied and took the book with her when she stood up. She went to place the book in her chamber and came back out to start gathering the meal since her mother was indisposed to helping her now that Cuileth was quiet and feeding. However, her father did join her to help her prepare the meal of breads, cheeses and fruits. She, personally, did not like these mornings before her father left for the fences. It worried her immensely that he could be lost and she would be without her father, the one she looked to always make her laugh... their relationship easily one of the best in all the history of Arda. And she could only imagine what would happen to her mother should something happen.

They sat to eat their meal now in peace and sharing the company of each other before they would all make their way down to the city floor and see the patrol off.

"Ada! You forgot my task!" Orophin exclaimed, jumping off of his chair and following after their father towards the door to the talan.

Haldir watched as their father stooped down and grabbed the long, sheathed sword that had been resting against the wall with the bow and quiver. He straightened himself and secured the belt about his waist and then looked at Orophin. Orophin's eyes lit up in expectation as their father smiled broadly, "Your task, should you choose to accept it, Orophin, is to learn how to fletch an arrow while I am away."

Haldir tried not to laugh upon hearing his brother's task, but it was useless. Pretty much everyone in Lórien knew that it was nearly a lost cause to teach Orophin to fletch an arrow at this age, as he nearly always ended up with more feathers and paste on him than on the shaft of the arrow itself. But it was still Orophin's favorite task to try to complete, because he could have paste and glue all over himself without having to give an excuse as to why he did. Hearing his laugh, his father turned to him and gave him a quick wink before turning back to securing his weapons about his body.

Orophin ran to their mother, "Nana, did you hear what my task is?"

And then their mother nodded her head, saying in her most pleasant voice, "Aye, I did. Now go wash your face and hands and put on a new tunic." After he had disappeared into his chambers, she muttered, "And it is only because your father does not have to clean the mess after you are through."

That made Haldir laugh again, as well as his father who was finishing securing the quiver upon his back. Today had been an abnormal morning for them on an occasion like this day. Instead of the usual reflection and low speaking, it had been a morning full of bright chatter and jesting. Maybe the world was slowly becoming a safer place that they did not need to worry so much about the forces of evil as much. Maybe that was why this morning was different.

Rúmil gurgled for attention at the side of the room in his small rocking crib, and received that when his mother walked over to him and stood over him, cooing at him. Haldir turned back to his work of clearing the used utensils from the table, not really interested in what new noise, new smell, or new bodily excretion his youngest brother was doing at the moment. Soon his father joined in with the watching of the babe, and then turned back toward the door.

"We should be heading down now," he announced, opening the door.

Orophin came scurrying from his chambers, Haldir stopped his chores and Rúmil was hoisted onto their mother's shoulder as they all made their customary pilgrimage to the base of the city to see their father's patrol off. Really, Haldir only liked to go down because he was able to see all of the mighty Elven warriors, their weapons gleaming bright and their garments pristine before their excursions. He had liked doing this since he was Orophin's age, and had, since then, decided that this was exactly what he wanted to do for the rest of his long life. He wanted to be one of those well-trained warriors who could move about so swiftly, agilely and adeptly when it came to fighting an opponent. One of the warriors who was higher ranking than the rest. It was in him to command at least some other person. He had known for sometime, that even though his father was a warden, and he would likely become one because of that reason, that this was his calling, pure and simple.

He had a long way to go to reach that point, especially since he was just perfecting his archery at this point and just nearing his coming of age at one hundred. It would be a long while before they held another warden training, but he would most definitely be the first in line to sign up for the opportunity. So that he could be like those other Elves. So that he could be like his father, the Elf whom above all else Haldir looked up to in all matters of life and the world. Haldir figured that because his father was a part of such an elite patrol of Elven warriors, that he had to at least have some wisdom in other areas of life.

However, he had not been able to shed much light upon the matter of ellyth. For that, he would one day have to go to his mother. Or to Laereth.

Haldir laughed to himself, thinking that it would be quite comical to ask Laereth such a question. After all, she acted more like an ellon than anything else. And speaking of Melkor's minion herself, Laereth was already down with her parents and saying her final farewells. She hugged her father closely and kissed his cheek, while he said something that made her laugh. Everything that was spoken between father and daughter made Laereth laugh, and granted she laughed quite a bit being an extremely jovial elleth, but it seemed that lately his own antics were not hitting the same chords with her.

"And your task, Haldir," said his father, pausing for only a moment as he came to stand beside Haldir. "Your task is to finally admit to Laereth that you are in love with her."

"Adar, please. You know as well as I that what is between us, is not love," Haldir quickly scoff at the idea that he could be in love with Laereth. That was completely unacceptable considering that he could not even see her as an elleth some of the time.

His father smiled knowingly and nodded his head in acceptance of what Haldir had said. He said, "Think on it, Haldir. She comes from an honored family besides the fact that she is beautiful and intelligent enough to keep you on your toes."

Haldir frowned, gazing back in the direction Laereth was, now holding her young sister in her arms as Branneth talked with Ruscon. "I am still young yet. I need not worry about it."

"Fine," his father replied. "I did not wish for this to turn into an argument. But in the meanwhile you are to tend to your mother and brothers as you always do, while you think on the things I have given you."

"Aye, Ada," Haldir said, but did not internalize, as his eyes and attention were now focused on the elleth his father told him he was in love with. What a preposterous idea it was. Maybe once had he thought about something more than a friendship with her in the recent years, but he just, under good conscience, could not think those things about the elleth he had often bathed with as a young child.

His father left his side with a shake of his head and walked over to the wardens now coalescing in the center of the gathered families. The March Warden came to them then, an old Elf by the name of Tirithion, and gave his orders to the new patrol. They were the same as every other time they went out on duty. To serve and protect the people of this great realm. And then he promptly disappeared after passing off a note to Ruscon, Laereth's father, to make sure he gave to one of the higher ranking wardens upon their arrival to the fences.

Sometimes Haldir wondered if the March Warden ever left his workplace high above the city and in one of the chambers of Lord Amroth's palace. Did he ever go to the borders to actually speak with his ranking officers? Did he even fight any other battle besides those of words in Amroth's court? Rarely did the Elf make an appearance about the city even, unless he was going to his own private talan or was at a grand celebration where he was always given a seat at the high table. And then he would act as though he were mighty above any other Elf, taking riches and things that were not necessarily rightfully his.

Haldir had never heard his father say so much, but it was evident that he was not pleased with the way March Warden ran his company and the fact that Amroth did nothing to rectify it. One time Haldir had heard his father and Ruscon commiserating with each other over the fact that he knew nothing about what was happening on the borders, besides that biased opinion from his ranking wardens. And they had also said that the ranking wardens were not always telling the March Warden the truth behind the happenings on the border, because he did not wish to hear bad news. Or was it that the March Warden did get the correct news, but still did what he pleased, because he was out of touch with reality by not being on the borders with his men?

Whatever it was, Haldir knew that something had to be done to cure the woes that had already occurred with the March Warden. Maybe he would be the one to do it...

The patrol walked past the gates of the city then, and Haldir looked about at the now sighing families. There was something odd about this scheduled patrol. He could not place his finger on it, but all of the families were acting differently than normal, as though they knew something bad was to come, but were trying to hide it as best as they could manage. His mother ascended the stairs with Rúmil in her arms, and Orophin at her heels, already begging her to set him up with paste, feathers and arrow shafts. She shook her head and told him that he could do it later.

Branneth disappeared with Cuileth, leaving Laereth speaking with one of her other friends, the very lovely and very female Galwen. Soon the other families disappeared and Galwen was pulled aside by her latest, and he was sure her father hoped, and last suitor. He had been watching Galwen so closely that he had not noticed that Laereth had come up beside him.

"If you stare any harder at her, she will turn to stone," Laereth replied, remarking on his attention he had been sending to Galwen.

"She will not," Haldir defended, now looking at Laereth. "I have done it many times before and she has not yet turned to stone."

Laereth sighed and walked past him, "Perhaps it is her heart that had turned to stone you cannot see it, so you do not know."

"I doubt her heart has turned to stone," Haldir remarked and followed after her, reaching out to grab her arm to stop her. "Will you join me for archery practice?"

"I was going to look for fresh berries." Laereth said, "You may join me while I do that, because Naneth says it is not an elleth's place to have aspirations of becoming a warden."

He laughed, "And it is not an ellon's place to search for berries, so I suppose this is farewell for now?"

She nodded her head, and let out a low, miserable sigh. "So long..."

"Do not act as though this is the end of the world." Haldir assured with another laugh trailing his words, "You will find a moment to sneak in archery."

Laereth sighed again, "Someday, when my mother has left Arda."

Haldir shook his head and rolled his eyes, "I shall see you later, Laereth. Find me tomorrow and we will go for a walk."

"Very well," she replied with a slightly brighter disposition and left him standing there, watching her move quickly away from him.

How could his father say he was in love? It was just outrageous!

Adar- father

Pen neth- young one

Meleth- love

Naneth- Mother

A/N: About the spacing of giving birth to Elves. Elves usually wait a large number of years before they have another child if they already have one. But I think that after coming home from the War of the Ring (part 1), and losing so many lives in the battles, that they would be inspired to reproduce a little more quickly. You know, kind of like an Elven baby-boom, but at much smaller numbers. Anyway, that is describing my reasoning behind my liberal LACE and canon translation of Elven birth. And that is why Orophin and Rúmil are so close in age. Also, any allusions you want to make with the situation of the wardens and their corrupt and bad military leader, you can, but it was not intended to be made in such a way of you are applying it to the current world problems.