Apparently, Haldir's birthdate is unknown soooooooo ;D

TIME FOR FUN :D

But yeah, I'm not too accurate on the history of everything since there is so much information. Sorry if I get things wrong ;P

This story will be in Ithilia's POV since it's her past. DURR- I'm JK don't hate me

The Calm Before the Storm

"You should not be so low of energy this quickly, brother!" I taunted, Angrod's midnight-black sword clashing with mine once more.

His exposed upper body glistened merrily with sweat in the afternoon light of the sun as he raised a hand in defeat, lowering his weapon. "Sister, you aren't giving me a fair oppurtunity." He panted, resting his weight against the blade. I peered at him warily as if he suddenly became as simpleminded as an Orc. Perhaps he had.

"Who in their right mind would give you a chance to kill them?" I huffed, briefly averting my eyes in exasperation.

"You." Angrod grinned, shifting his gaze from mine to a figure behind me. The cheeky grin faded as an adorable pink flush spread across his fair face, giving me reason to smirk.

He never recovered from the intoxicating euphoria of love at first sight for his beloved, even after years and years of union.

"Eldalótë," I acknowledged as I turned to see the beautiful maiden walk with otherworldly grace towards us. She smiled brightly and lowered her head in recognition.

"Ithilia."

I sheathed my sword and wiped the sweat off my brow with a soft cloth that hung from my leather belt. "How fares Orodreth?"

"He is doing well. . . or. . . at least I hope he is." Eldalótë's beautiful face became forlorn as she thought of her son. Before I could offer her any consolation, a small simple smile eradicated the expression in a heartbeat. "Lady Artanis seeks your company." She said as she handed her husband a glass of cool water from the pitcher she brought with her. "She says it is a matter of great importance."

As she spoke, a fissure of anticipation shot through me. It has been a little over two weeks since I last spoke to my hot-blooded sister and I was eager to discover if she was doing well.

Nodding once in thanks, I gathered my things and began toward the stairs that stood regally to the right of me. "Thank you. I shall leave you two here alone. . . pardon me brother." I grinned, wicked intention swimming in my eyes. Angrod's face became scarlet red as he muttered curses at my retreating back.

I walked down the halls, smiling to myself. Out of the five of us, Angrod was always the one more prone to respond more emotionally, even as a small elfling! Whenever Finrod would startle him from behind playfully, he would cry for our mother.

And when she got to them from her place beside our father, who laughed from deep within his stomach as he watched on with amusement, she would sigh and shake her silver head, cradling the younger elfling to her bosom as she kissed him on the head; soothing his cries.

I was so profusely distracted, I didn't realize another elf was in the corridor until it was too late. We collided and the force resulted in me losing my balance. Contrary to my personal clumsiness, the other elf had sharp reflexes and caught me before I fell. I opened my eyes,—not knowing that I had closed them previously—and saw grey eyes, the color of an incoming storm.

The color was both seductive and deadly, like a poisonous flower. "Are you alright, milady?"

Oh my.

I could feel my body start to heat up as I realized how compromising our positions were. Thank the Valar no one else was in the corridor. The stranger's hand was on my lower back to keep me from falling hideously to the ground as he leaned over me with a package bundled under his other arm. His silver hair tumbled down like water over his broad shoulders onto my tunic-clad bosom. The arm on my back flexed and I nearly swooned from the action.

Mentally berating my weak self, I gathered my confidence and placed all my effort into uttering a sentence without stumbling like a shy doe. "Yes, thank you. Release me. I can stand." The stranger complied, but his hand lingered. Once I was stable on my feet, he stepped back with a cool, calculating smile.

"I apologize." He saluted me with a touch to his brow. "I was preoccupied with admiring the scenery." He gestured to the garden below us.

I curtsied politely, keeping my eyes trained on the marble floors. "Neither did I, milord. I am at fault as well."

Nodding curtly, the ellon detoured around me and continued on his way. Bowing once more to his retreating back, I turned and scurried the rest of the way to Artanis' room, all the while hoping that I would see the stranger once more.

Shaking my head at the absurd thought, I knocked once on the beautiful doors that towered over me in all its glory. "Sister? 'Tis me, Ithilia."

"Enter."

Pushing open the doors and taking a step through the threshold, I was surprised to see my sister standing at the balcony located at the other end of the grand suite. "Artanis? What is the matter?" I queried as I hurriedly closed the doors behind me. Strolling across the room, I studied her physique to see if any harm had come to her. When my eyes saw no damage, I relaxed and welcomed the burning rush of relief coursing through my already-heated veins.

She peered at me, her beautiful sapphire eyes staring straight into my soul. Eventually, she cracked a small smile and I swatted her lightly on the shoulder. "Tell me." I urged, trying to distract myself from a very handsome elf.

"Thinking back on this matter, I think I would rather discuss this topic when everyone is gathered." Artanis whispered, looking back down at the flower she held. It was a niphredil, a gorgeous white flower that grew within our mother's unique garden. Looking into the distance, I exhaled slowly as I watched a bird take flight.

"I will summon them."

-o-o-o-o-

As our mother—still in shock from the kinslaying in Alqualondë— settled into her chair, Artanis stood. Aegnor and Angrod glanced at each other with pointed looks while our father regarded her with a neutral expression, caressing his wife's hand in silent comfort.

For a moment, it seemed as if Artanis were uncertain as to whether or not to speak her mind. Her eyes sought out mine, seeking acceptance or assurance—who knows— and I gave her a small encouraging smile.

Artanis wasn't the type of elleth to be meek during family gatherings so witnessing, firsthand, her fidgeting and shifting around nervously in front of us was quite a shock. . . to myself at least. After many moments of uncomfortable silence, she met Father's impassive expression head-on and spoke firmly.

"I wish to go to Middle-Earth."