Hi everyone!

So... I couldn't stop myself. A week after I posted the last chapter of WGHGM I've started the next part of the story.

So far, this is more like snippets into the life of Litawen. Each chapter will be at a different age, a different stage of her life, and each chapter title will tell us what that is. I don't think we would experience true, outright bullying, but considering how easily Elves hold grudges and prejudices it wouldn't surprise me if someone whose square peg didn't quite fit into their round hole became a little ostracised.

Updates are unlikely to be as quick as with WGHGM, but I'll be going for once a week. Some chapters will be longer, some shorter – it depends on the chapter.

*Big Reminder* - If you haven't read What Grace Has Given Me first, I strongly recommend doing so.

Lots of love, and I can't wait to hear what you think.

MM -x

"Litawen?"

I glanced up from my book, quill between my teeth. "Mhmmm?"

"May I speak with you?" Dad looked stressed, and I nodded as I unclenched my jaw and let the quill fall from my mouth. I patted my bed and he came in to my room, closing the door behind him. I scrambled up from my stomach and closed the book of sums I had been diligently working on, set by my tutor.

"What is it, Daddy?" I asked, crossing my legs. He assumed the same position as he often did, and he picked up the book I was working through. The sums were hideously easy, but my work was neat and thorough and I knew not a single one was incorrect. I could have done them in my sleep, so I was using the work to relax and unwind – it was almost therapeutic.

"This work is good. You are far more advanced than this, daughter. You insist upon working at the level of the other lords and ladies your age but it is clear your mind is well passed this."

I chewed my lip, eyes downcast. "You know why I do it." I had been telling them for many years that the other children, and then young adults, had taken some exception to me. At first it had been apparent jealousy and I had told both the children and my parents I knew it. That had gained me a little respect, or at least it had at first. I was seen as strong, as a little formidable. I didn't hide how easy I found any educational task set to me,

As they got older, I heard the whispers from both the children and their parents. The friends I did have began to distance themselves, but for those like my cousins who I had grown up with as close to as if they were siblings. By forty it was clear I was different to to the others in a way I could not erase by simply besting them and staring them down as I had learned from my Dad. By fifty, I had learned how to pretend that I did not hear their words, but they cut into my heart painfully.

Look at her, she thinks she is better than us.

She thinks she is pretty, but she looks like a wildling. She climbs trees and throws herself from them at elves like Prince Legolas and Lord Glorfindel, and even Lord Celeborn when he passes.

Her Mother is strange. She is strange too!

Is her Mother a mortal?

I heard she died not only once but twice, and the Valar let her return. Why do they favour her?

Is it not the only reason they were permitted to Valinor because of her friendships with Lord Glorfindel, King Thranduil, and Lord Elrond?

I heard she was a coward and ran away from Mirkwood.

Why does Lord Haldir love a creature such as she? So uncouth, so rude, and she speaks in a language none understand... even teaching it to her children so they do not know that they are of elven kind!

The gossip was painful, and though I had only reached my fiftieth summer I was more developed than many intellectually and physically. I was slight in height, but my body curved as a full-grown woman's would and I was certain I was not far from the physical maturity many did not reach until their hundredth begetting day. I did not need my own... my own freakishness to make anything worse for my Mum. More and more it was becoming apparent to me that whilst she was trusted for her medicinal skill, demanded for her bread, and occasionally requested for her music from those who knew her before in Mirkwood, she was otherwise only befriended by those who had known her before we came to this place.

I became certain when I realised that she did not perform any sort of music in public any longer, and even in our home the songs were quieter than they had been in Gondor and Ithilien where I had spent my very youngest years. She was not well liked by those high-elves, and so that was filtered to her children too. I could have resented her, and I sometimes wondered why I did not feel so. Yet my bitter anger was instead reserved for those who instead chose to make a judgement before even knowing her, and I felt that was much healthier than creating a chasm where there didn't need to be one.

"This goes too far, darling. I will not have you hiding your potential simply because others cannot manage to contain their jealousy."

I sighed, closing my eyes and flopping backwards. "If it were all that was, the others could go hang." I confessed, and I felt him come to rest by me. "Can you keep a secret?"

"That rather depends on the secret, Lita." He said seriously.

"True." I considered how to phrase the real problems I was experiencing. "Tell me; do Gel and Cal have many friends?"

I turned my head to the side to watch his expression. Dad gave a puzzled frown, his eyes fixed at a point in the distance. "They have many playmates, though they are yet young."

Well, true – my brothers were half my age almost exactly at that time. Perhaps this would not be so easy as I had hoped. "And how many of those playmates are we related to by blood, by marriage, or by friendships forged away from Valinor?"

I watched his features change from clouded, to confused, and then to downright horrified. "Litawen, are there troubles that you have not told us of?" He said it as a question, but the tone of his voice suggested he had realised we faced difficulties with others our age, and older too.

"I can handle them, Dad – I clearly do so perfectly well, if you did not realise it." I rolled my eyes, sitting up again. "This battle cannot be fought for me. I cannot help much of it, but some of it I can disguise a little by not drawing so much attention to myself. I would never have Mum suffer, nor you. I love you both far too much for any more hardship to come upon you and the thought that it could ever be my fault tears at me like a knife. So yes, I pretend, but you cannot fault me for that."

"Yet here you are, telling me. It bothers you more than you care to admit." He drawled, and I dared to flash him a grin despite my anger.

"I thought you should know what the others say about you. It is awful, truly awful, and I am sick of not being able to defend you both. Mum has said a few things, it is true, but you both treat me as if I am still a child when it is obvious that I am long past childhood!" I snapped, finally losing the patience that I usually found easy to keep.

"And there stirs the dragon within." Father sighed, and then pulled me to him so that I rested on his shoulder. "I am sorry, my darling daughter. I promised to protect you when you came in to this world, and the job I have done these past few years has not been a good one." I frowned, about to protest, but he hushed me.

"I would speak to your Mother about this, and then see what she would do. We should have told you of her past in full earlier, but we had hoped... we had hoped there would be more acceptance here than perhaps there has been."

"I thought that might be the case. I am not so innocent as to think that our family is normal, Daddy." I used the name for him that I had always called him since a little girl, and his lips turned up in a smile.

"I know it. You are as intelligent as both your Mother and I, and just as curious as she." He played with my hair, golden curls about my waist. "I think there is no point in continuing your tutoring, Litawen. You speak two languages fluently, Quenya to a point, and of course Common enough to get by. Sums, daughter-mine? You can do them in your sleep. You are fascinated by history and you sing with your Mother almost every night. You need a new occupation."

"Such as?" My brows rose, and I waited for him to respond. He was seeming to toy with an idea before he met my eyes, so like mine.

"Have you thought about taking your archery further?"

"Truly?" I sat up, excited, and he shrugged.

"It will keep you out of trouble, at the very least. A Huntress can find easy occupation."

"I have been using a full bow for the last ten years, it is about time." I picked up my book of sums again, and then threw it back down with a sigh. "I love you both, you know that don't you?"

"Oh darling, of course." Father said, sitting up and putting an arm around my shoulder.

"I wish I hadn't told you, but I felt you deserved to know. I hate secrets." I brushed a tear away angrily, furious at myself for becoming so emotional. He offered a lopsided smile, and then brushed away the remaining dampness on my cheeks before kissing my forehead.

"I know. You are too much like your Mother for my poor soul to take."

"You love Mum." I pointed out as he stood, and he smirked as he was prone to do. His eyes lit up, and he opened the door to leave before turning back.

"Yes, the thought had occurred to me. Practice fields, one hour." He paused, and then sighed. "I shall be telling your Mother of what has been happening. Tonight, I think Gelluion and Callon will find themselves otherwise occupied with one of their Aunts or Uncles."

I grimaced, my excitement dropping a little. I knew that he would tell her, but I had hoped he would at least try to hide it a little. I was a clever lady, as much as I hated it, and I was intuitive too.

"Oh, and Litawen? If ever you try to hide who you are again, I shall personally ensure you care for your brothers every evening for the rest of the year."

xxxXxxx

I heard their roaring argument that evening after dinner, which included much door-slamming and a flurry of curses in my Mother's tongue which I filed away for future use with a smirk. It wasn't a real fight, but rather her general anger at all things high-culture that she had never been fond of nor forced to endure at any real length until now.

"Sometimes, I wish I was sodding human again! No, Haldir, you don't get to give me that look. Prejudice, outright racism? I thought we elves better than this, but clearly I was wrong."

"Racism?" I heard the curiosity in his voice, and the scream-like choke that tore from her throat borne of frustration was wild enough to make me snicker quietly. They truly did not know how funny they were when they attempted to have a fight.

"Oh my God, I cannot do this tonight." I heard her hiss, and then my bedroom door opened. Mother looked harried as she beckoned me forward, and I clambered off the bed. "Come on Lita, I want to take a walk with you."

"It is dark." I stated, looking out of the window with a single raised brow.

"And? I like the dark. Come on." She took my hand and pulled me with her, bare feet and all, out of our home and down the winding path to the beach.

"So, would you like to tell me why I have been able to extend my vocabulary so extensively tonight?" I teased and she pinched my side, dark hair tied high upon her head.

"What, apart from the fact your Dad is an arse sometimes?"

"You married him knowing it. I think you secretly like it." I said lightly and she chuckled, eyes darkening a little as we took the stone steps to the sand.

"That is an entirely different discussion and I outright refuse to have it with you until I have to." She blushed a little and I rolled my eyes.

"I am fifty, Mum – I know perfectly well the quite literal ins and outs of the whole business. You can thank Aunty Osellë for that. She sat me down with Tatharien when she heard us gossiping over..." I stopped myself with a giggle. "Never mind, Tath would not thank me for it."

"I'm sure she wouldn't. So... Your Dad told me about your little chat today." She sat down on the cool sand, patting her side indicating I sit by her.

"Yes, I gathered." I drew my knees to my chest, bare toes burrowing into the sand.

"Why did you never tell me?" She asked, sounding a little hurt. "You usually tell me everything."

"Why did you never tell me?" I countered and she gave me a long, hard stare.

"Fair enough. You know I grew up in Mirkwood, north of East Lorien. I was nearly 300 when my Dad went to Lothlorien. When he was there, he looked into Lady Galadriel's mirror. It had the power to show things that were, that are, and things that might yet happen."

"Grandfather saw something." I felt my heart in my throat, and she nodded.

"He did. He saw the future and he thought he was saving us from it. Instead, he led us directly to it." She blew out a long breath through pursed lips. "So, there I was, nearly 300. Your Aunty Tori had just been promoted to a Second within the forest guard, Aunty J was, often, with ladies of the court she was friends with, and I was..." She paused with a frown. "A Lady of the King's court. I detested it, but it afforded me certain luxuries and of course, Legolas was my best friend."

"And then you find out something awful is coming for you." she nodded.

"For me, it was the attack of Sauron in my mind." Her voice was hushed, and I gaped.

"Sauron. The Dark Lord Sauron, in your mind?"

"Yes, but for now that's not important. Your Grandfather wanted to get us to safety and keep the woods from the darkness he feared we would bring. It was a spell; an enchantment, magic that was real and true. It tore us, soul from body, and we waited. Our souls were in the halls of waiting for thousands upon thousands of years until I was reborn not Aerlinn, but Bernadette. As I am now."

I finally began to truly understand. Some of her story I knew, but these intimacies I'd never been privy to before. "But you weren't, were you?"

"Do you know, you sound so like me sometimes." I nodded with a slight blush.

"I try to watch how I speak around the few ladies who have befriended me." I admitted, and but for the slight rise of her brows she didn't respond to my words.

"I didn't remember a single damn thing." Mum leaned back, staring up at the stars. "I grew up believing, knowing, I was completely and utterly human. This; all of this beautiful, incredible world... it was fiction. It was a story I read. My Dad remembered, but I didn't. Nor did my sisters, and my Mum only had a few memories here and there."

This, I knew, and I nodded to indicate as such.

"I don't think you understand, trouble. I didn't know anything about the time I'd lived here. I thought I had eighty to a hundred years of being alive. I spoke this language -" She began speaking in that tongue we had grown up with, and continued in it. "- but that wasn't all of the life I lived. As a little girl, I was adventurous, loved sitting in the outdoors, and music spoke to my soul. I devoured books, and then at about eight years old I discovered a book named the Hobbit. It was the story of Bilbo Baggins." I understood her as easily as I did in Sindarin, and fell as easily into the language as she did too.

"Frodo the Ringbearer's uncle?" Mum nodded, a small smile on her face. "You truly did not know that all of this was real." I gestured to the earth around me, suddenly feeling very small.

"Did you know that the stars are balls of burning gas, many with planets just like this one circling around them? They are billions upon billions of miles away. Makes you think sometimes. We are very small creatures and we don't really matter at all, but here we are."

"But here we are, indeed." I turned to see Dad standing behind us, arms crossed. "So, the childlike incarnation of Bernadette falls in love with Middle Earth and all its glories, but it is still just a fantasy. She grew, she loved, she learned everything she could. And then, at the same age you are now, my darling girl... her Father passes. The enchantment begins to unravel."

I felt the jolt to my heart as she continued to stare at the stars, Dad coming to sit behind me and pulling me to lean back against him on the sand. One arm anchored me to him in a protective embrace, the other reached out to grasp Mother's hand – her knuckles turning white from the force of it. "How did you manage?"

"I didn't." She said, voice little more than a croak. "I was alive, but for a long time I didn't truly live. I stopped your Grandmother from killing herself with alcohol, made sure my sisters continued on with their education, and somehow managed to keep mine afloat. All that at your age. I cannot stand to think of the same happening to you."

"That is why you refuse to have the serene life that others may take, isn't it?" I whispered, and she turned her head to meet my eyes with a furrowed brow. "I am perhaps too clever for my own good, I think." She sat up straight then, coming to kneel by Father's side and grasping my face in her hands.

"Never think that. Your intelligence is incredibly beautiful; as is your strength and your fire and your naughtiness. Yes, even the healing gel in our bed – thanks for that, by the way, that was the best night's sleep I've had in a long time."

"I was thirty five, I didn't know what it did!" I protested. It was a complete lie, but I needed to keep some semblance of simple trouble rather than the overly-intuitive child I truly had been. My brothers, at only ten summers old, were still infants and she struggled to sleep sometimes in case they needed her.

"Yes you did, you little hellion." She teased me, brushing curls out of my face. "You're right, though. I would rather truly, completely live every moment. Never take advantage of a second of it."

"You are not quite so tightly wound as you were, love." Father took her hand again and she shrugged, but there was the adoring glance between them and I felt my heart melt a little more. "The rest you know, I think. The accident that brought her here, and after. You perhaps do not quite know the ins and the outs of the War, but any book can tell you those. Lord Celeborn has a penchant for writing history particularly well."

"I shall visit the library tomorrow." I confirmed. "How did you fall in love?" I asked suddenly, and both looked at me as if surprised.

"Blimey, that was forthright." Mum laughed, and then stood. "It might be fun to tell you the story – but lets do it inside, shall we? The tide is coming in."

"Thank the Valar you have finally seen sense. Infernal creatures, the two of you."

"You love us." Mother teased, taking my hand to pull me up. As soon as Father stood I flung myself at his back, arms about his shoulders and legs around his waist as his arms captured me.

"Still not too grown to be carried, I see." He said with a laugh, turning his head towards me.

"Never. I love you, Daddy." I rested my chin on his shoulder as we walked back up to the house as a trio, Mother giggling the entire way home as she followed, dress gathered in her hands to keep the sand away.

I might have been growing, and growing quickly – yet still, there was something to be said for having quite so wonderful parents. I had laughed so much that evening as they told me first of their dubious tolerance, then friendship, and then love.

"Do you think I'll ever marry, Mum?" I asked, head in her lap and my feet upon my Father's.

"I'm certain of it, trouble. You know, I think there's probably even a betting pool about who it'll be." She teased, running her fingers through my hair.

"Well, he'll have to be tall. Dark hair, I think, and he'll have to love watching the sunrise on the beach with me." I said thoughtfully. "Funny, charming, and maybe even trouble like me!" I giggled as Father began tickling me in earnest.

"I do not doubt you will find all that and more." He said. "But let us not have to think on marriage until you are one hundred at least, hmm? I care not if you are fully grown in five years, twenty five, or fifty."

"Probably twenty five, if you're anything like I was." Mum supplied, and I tilted my head back to look up at her with a frown.

"Really – you hit your maturity at seventy five?"

"I don't know, did I Haldir?" She teased, and to my utmost amusement my Dad flushed to the very tips of his ears. "It was actually seventy, if you want to be pedantic about it."

"Ooooh, so you met before Mum came to Lothlorien?"

"I did not know it was she, and she did not recall it until very shortly before we married." He protested, and I clambered from their lap with a grin.

"I am going to stay with Tatharien tonight, I think. Have a lovely rest of your evening." I went to my room to pull on my boots, pack a bag, and jump from my balcony onto the forest floor in a few moments flat – before my parents even realised I was going.

Luckily, we lived so close to Aunty Osellë. Even more fortunate, Tath's room had a balcony.

"Tath, let me in." I crouched on the railing comfortably, waiting for her to open the door.

"What on... Lita, what are you doing here?"

"Avoiding hearing the intimacies of my parent's relationship." I grimaced and she laughed outright, straight silvery hair tied back in a braid to keep it from her face.

"You grimace, my dear cousin, yet you have set it so perfectly so that they may have some time alone together. You really are quite the hideous romantic, are you not?"

Tatharien was almost identical in age to me but for about two weeks, and she was as close to me as any true sister might be. "Perhaps." I said evasively, but it was true. I had made sure in my own way that they would have some time alone now to remember their first years together, giving them space after my brothers had been particularly trying.

"How did your parents take the news of your tormentors?"

"Well, I know Mum's story now which helps a little. I now know in quite explicit detail how she not only helped to save elves in Lothlorien and Mirkwood, but also endured hours of torture by the hand of Sauron himself in her mind and did. Not. Say. Anything." I ground out.

"As your Mother would say – wankers, the lot of them. Come in – you can tell me everything over some peppermint tea." She pulled me from the balcony railing and into the room, closing the door behind her with a click. Sometimes, I was an amazing daughter.

"Make it a glass of wine, and you have a deal." I bargained as I permitted her to drag me.

"I always have a bottle hidden, for times just like these." She grinned outright, pulling the bottle from under the bed with a laugh, along with the two glasses we had long-since stolen for purposes such as these.

"And of course, the cure for a sore head the next day." I pulled out a smaller vial from my bag with an equally devious smirk.

"Ah, to be the daughters of healers." Tatharien said, passing me the glass. I took a sip and sighed, my eyes fluttering closed. It was deliciously rich and slightly sweet.

"Drink responsibly, or Bernadette shall have my hide!" We heard the call from the front room and my eyes flicked open again. Aunty Osellë had hearing like a hawk.

"Always!" We cried as one, before dissolving into joyful adolescent giggles.

So, what do we think? Reviews, as always, sincerely appreciated.