A Journey Begins
Seventh Story in Legend, Lore, and Lullabies.
Chapter One: With A Single Step
It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end.
-Ursula K. LeGuin
TA 2940, Minas Tirith, Gondor
The party from Imladris had been in Gondor for barely a month and the four elves had already found themselves desiring a trip home. It was not so much the ever oppressive air surrounding the city, or the tangible fear of the people, or the suspicious looks around every corner. It was not the way Baineth and Morwen were so easily dismissed because they were female or how Thandrog and Elrohir were dismissed because they were too young (a statement which Thandrog had felt the need to address stating loudly and clearly just how many years, collectively, the party had spent on Arda) nor was it the fear of attack from the sea or the heavy setting cuisine. No, it was more the simple and honest fact that none of the four elves had any idea why they had been called here. For whatever reason it was, it was not to openly seek out the advice of Imladris. The only thing Morwen had been allowed to advise on was the selection of robe colors for Thandrog.
The group currently sat gathered, in all their brooding glory, at one of the more respectable taverns of the city and one of the rare few who did not mind the elven newcomers. The patrons and the workers were always polite in their questions to the elves and often loved to hear them singing or to hear their tales. One nice tavern, however, did not a welcoming city make and left the elves contemplating their current state.
Elrohir sat beside Baineth, his hair unbound and enjoying the wind that blew through it. He had spent a good portion of the day running up and down the city, waiting at gates and usually climbing over or through them in his impatience for the gatekeepers to open the locks. Rather than proving he was as surly as he currently appeared, Elrohir had chosen to spend the evening in silent contemplation. Baineth sat beside him, tugging on the sleeves of her dress, used to having her arms bare in uniform. Bare female arms, however, was frowned upon here and Baineth found herself still adjusting to the limited movement the sleeves placed on her. Morwen was equally uncomfortable in the heavy robes used to mark her position while in Minas Tirith. The fabric was far from light and much more ornate than anything Morwen would bother to wear and while it had been designed for males, that was not so much the problem as it had been designed for human males of Minas Tirith who were generally shorter in stature than female elves. None was as uncomfortable as Thandrog, currently in robes, something he had never worn, who had to appear as Morwen's assistant and not the warrior he truly was. Thandrog was still amazed how a simple outfit and hairstyle change could make the people of Gondor believe he was a different elf. A different elf they still did not desire to speak with.
"I do not know why they dislike me so very much." Thandrog complained as he tried to adjust the robes around his legs.
Elrohir raised his head from the table and smiled, "Yes, well, saying upon arrival into the city 'I think I should be more impressed' does not often endear one to the natives."
"Though it makes us laugh every time we think about it." Baineth said.
Thandrog sat back in the chair, scratching at the unfamiliar robes he wore, "It was an honest assessment."
"They have imminent attacks on all sides, Thandrog, you cannot expect them to be so concerned with the mere upkeep of a city." Morwen insisted looking down from one of the upper-levels of Minas Tirith, though even she had to admit the city could do with some cleaning. Or some oil for the hinges of the gates, eight levels and all made horrible sounds when the gates were pulled back.
"Tirnion got out while he still could." Thandrog said, remembering their friend who had accompanied them to Gondor's borders before turning back and heading to his own realm. "He knew better than to deal with these far from talkative folk." he said.
Baineth ran a hand over her face and yawned, bored in this realm that let her do little, "Thandrog, I have the oddest feeling that even if you were not known for your careless comment they still would not speak with you. They all seem to dislike our presence."
"Dislike may not be the best word, suspicious, suspicious works best. We are unknown, we are beings of legend, we are not the normal guests of this city." Elrohir said as he took a long sip from his glass.
The others nodded at Elrohir's words. Baineth pulled out a deck of cards from her dress, the only thing she enjoyed about the clothing was the secret compartments Thandrog had sewn within the long sleeves. Elrohir leaned across her to cut the deck and so began yet another game between the group, the only thing they could find to pass the time until they were approached for the council meeting. Here they still used messengers to signal the start of a meeting rather than the bells used in Imladris or the Havens.
Thandrog shuffled through the cards in his hand and asked Elrohir, "Have you sent out the package to Imladris yet?"
Elrohir put two cards down onto the table before pulling two new ones from the deck. He glanced up at Thandrog, "I sent it out three days ago, you would have known had you bother to help me with delivering all the messages."
Thandrog laughed, "Oh, is someone tired?" he taunted before letting out a yelp as Morwen slapped the side of his head.
"Thandrog, be respectful at the very least. You could be the one running around the city." Morwen chastised him.
Pulling on the high neck of his robes Thandrog sighed, "I would rather do such a thing if it meant I could breathe easier."
"Ah, but your dainty feet would be tired from all the running and climbing and we know how much you dislike calluses on your feet." Baineth said with a smirk.
Morwen shook her head, "Stop taunting each other, as amusing as it us, I do believe those listening in our conversation will not understand our friendly sarcasm. We must not confuse them and give them more reason for gossip."
"Oh, but the rumors are indeed so humorous." Thandrog said. "Did you know, you and Elrohir have three love children and are here because you are hiding from your true spouses?"
Elrohir smiled across the table at Morwen, "Such a seductive temptress you are, dragging me to this city only to cast me off for Thandrog." Elrohir said as he addressed some of the more colorful rumors swirling around them.
Morwen looked down at her cards, "That is most peculiar, since I heard I had sucked the soul out of both of you and was sharing my power with Baineth so that we could take control of the city."
The other occupants at the table laughed and the musical sound of their joy made many of the inhabitants stop in their daily tasks as they took in the incredible sight and sound of four joyful elves.
Imladris, Winter, TA 2940
Glorfindel leaned back against one of the massive oak trees as he instructed Estel on his swordplay. Thalion, visiting from the Havens, perched on his knees as he blocked Estel's blows. It was heartwarming for Glorfindel, to see his former student with his new one, to see the very lessons Glorfindel had taught to Thalion passed down to Estel. Thalion's youngest daughter was currently in residence as well, following everyone of Eluialeth's footsteps in her hero-worship of both Eluialeth and Morwen. Erestor was even more amused, seeing the lessons he had taught Morwen who had taught Eluialeth being taught to the young Celairaer. It was always fun to see the generations go by.
Glorfindel ordered Estel to do a spinning move as Thalion suggested Estel not drop his arm in order to protect his shoulder. All was going nice and calmly until a package was literally dropped into Glorfindel's lap from a passing bird.
Thalion stood up quickly as he easily blocked the blow from Estel's sword, having faced much more formidable foes in his time. "Glorfindel, are you well?" Thalion asked.
Glorfindel nodded as he painfully shifted in his spot by the tree. He stared at the offending package as he took a deep breath and controlled the pain. His eyes briefly took in the package, noticing the seal of Morwen on it. Glorfindel shook his head, she would do something so cruel to him.
"Who is it from?" Thalion asked as he began to instruct Estel again.
"The merry group of mischief makers in Minas Tirith." Glorfindel answered as he pulled a knife from his belt and began to cut the twine around the box.
Estel had stopped in his lessons to repeat Glorfindel's sentence a few times before shrugging and getting back to his lessons. Thalion was not quite Tirnion, and was certainly not as entertaining as the twins, but he was kind and patient. He, unlike some of the other elves among Glorfindel's ranks, did not make Estel feel ashamed when he made mistakes. Estel looked up as he felt Thalion tap him on the head.
Thalion cupped his face with a warm palm, "Let us take a break for a moment, I know I could do with a drink and some food."
Estel nodded as he felt his own stomach grumble, "I would not turn down a snack."
Thalion laughed, "Neither would I." He reached out a hand, "Give me your practice sword and I will go secure them both."
Estel did as Thalion said, and waited for his next set of instructions.
Thalion laughed at his eager face, remembering his own sons looking at him in such a way, "Go inside, Estel, I will soon follow."
Thalion sat down beside Glorfindel, "He shows much promise."
"Yes," Glorfindel answered as he pulled out the bundle of letters and small packages. "I am glad you noticed the beginnings of fatigue in him. He would keep going on past his own limits."
Thalion nodded as he took in the contents of the box, "He is very eager to learn." Picking at the stack of letters, "I thought you said they had been gone only a few months."
Glorfindel nodded, "Alas, Morwen and Elrohir are both prolific writers." He opened the first letter. "And this time it would be Elrohir who is the very prolific writer." Glorfindel looked down at the letter, rendered in Elrohir's exquisite handwriting and began to search for an explanation for all the letters.
My Dearest Glorfindel,
As you know, we have been sent out into the wilderness of a wholly other kind than that which I am used to in order to attend to the matters of idiotic humans. Oh, excuse me, that was far from polite or diplomatic but I fear both of those particular virtues have been beaten out of me by the mountains of suspicion we are being forced to climb.
As you may have been able to surmise, we have not been openly welcomed into Gondor.
Tell Erestor they see the sending of a female councilor as an insult.
Also inform him that Morwen is starting to see it as an insult to be sent here.
Why I know it is not your fault, someone needed to sympathize with our pain, hence the dropping box from above. I am certain you will be healed long before we are ever able to return home.
I do not know how Gondor once stood in its height, specifically Minas Tirith, but now it appears more of the sad shadow of once glory. To be sure, there are not many who approve of us, it appears they have forgotten their once strong kinship and friendship with us. We also come under certain suspicion since we are more reliable on Mithrandir's words than Curunir. Personally, I am a bit offended that old bearded men with staffs who shroud themselves in robes and mystery are much more trusted than us elves, but then they all fear we are like Grandmother.
I am starting to view her stand on humans in a much more favorable light.
To be fair, we have met our fair share of kind persons here, we just have not found them on the council.
Gossip of an amusing kind may have trickled back to you before this letter reaches your lovely desk or lap or wherever you may be. It is apparently false and common knowledge that Morwen and I are in some form of intimate relationship. As I often have, I must once again ponder why people find it so difficult for a male and female to be close confidants without having been or planning to be lovers. Morwen, of course, finds our whole "affair" as humorous as anything and I must admit it does offer me a certain peace of mind, not having to find polite ways to decline all the invitations from various females. Of course, it also serves another purpose of protecting Morwen against the advances, be they romantic or political, of some of the males here. It also prevents Morwen from having to take an active stand against them which, I am sure you know, is hardly good for diplomatic relations.
The elder members of this council tend to be more respectful in regards to Morwen and Baineth than the younger ones, though I must confess I do not know the reason for such a thing. The elder members at least pretend to listen to what the females have to say but the younger tend to dismiss both Morwen and Baineth as pointless beings. I fear they may soon feel the wrath of the elven female. I almost pity them.
There was one incident with one of the older scholars. He insisted he knew the true dealings of the events of the Fell Winter, since he had researched it extensively. Morwen, of course, had to inform him seeing how she lived and worked through the famine, offering aid and heading out on her own, she understood the events better than he ever would. I do not believe I have ever seen a man turn such a shade of purple so quickly.
The Steward appears to be a good man, and he has done much for the Rangers who dwell in this southern kingdom. His main concerns are strengthening the forces of the city and holding off the attacks by sea which means, as Thandrog was clear to point out, a councilor from the Havens would be much more valuable than one from Imladris. In truth, I do not know why they insist on our presence here. They are so certain of their own actions, which to be fair since it is their homeland they have a slight advantage when it comes to devising strategy, they do not listen to any of our words. Or if they do, they are certainly not putting what we say into action. Morwen hardly knows what to suggest in regards to battle, though she has offered much sound advice on how to keep the city running while the battles rage on. One of the councilors asked how was that to help in regards to their fight. Morwen, with more dignity and reserve than I frankly knew she possessed, coolly informed him that going to battle to defend a city whose patrons were suffering from lack of food, clean water, and supplies was foolish, since there would not be much to defend when everyone died off from starvation and illness and general chaos. She then, appealing to their war-concerned minds, stated that if the soldiers expected supplies and armors and all the trappings, they needed a running city to secure and produce such things for them.
Frankly, I think Ecthelion II fell a little in love with her when she said that. Apparently he has been trying to hammer such a point into his council's collective skull. It was quite amusing sight, seeing all those chastised faces. Erestor would have been so proud. I gladly provide you my artistic rendering of the moment.
Glorfindel's eyes quickly scanned the page of Elrohir's very amusing artistic renderings of the event. Though Glorfindel was not sure what amused him more, Thandrog in robes, Morwen rendered standing with a foot atop a councilor's skull, or Elrohir's decision to provide his own interpretations of what the councilors were thinking. Glorfindel quickly finished the letter.
As for the Steward's son and the next in line, Denethor II, I do not yet have a good grasp of him. I have tried to ascertain his character as my father has taught me, but it is cloudy to be sure. There is a certain strength already in him but I fear his great desire for approval from his father and others may be troublesome in the future.
Not to sound like the terrible bratish child I am sure you often think of me, but Glorfindel, please ask Erestor when we may return. There is a little we can do here, nor are we truly welcomed. We all fully support a tour of the area to spread good will or a visit to Rohan. Or even Mirkwood. All of us could be better used in Imladris. Furthermore, if one more elderly woman winks at me knowingly while I walk the city levels with Morwen, I will lose my sanity. We both are tired of the smiths trying to push engagement rings on us or the inquiry of whether we will hold a wedding ceremony here. Some apparently believe we are not really a son of Elrond and a senior councilor, but an eloping couple carrying on a clandestine affair by taking on those lofty roles of warrior and scholar of elves in this realm. I do not jest, Glorfindel, for I heard such a tale with my own ears. Honestly, I believe Thandrog and Baineth would be more suited to such a tale but alas, no.
Morwen is ready to stow away on one of the cargo ships and flee to the Havens. Thandrog has already devised a plan of action for such event.
Please, Glorfindel, I beg of you. Get us out of the city before we inadvertently cause a war between men and elves.
With all my love and sympathy for leaving you alone with Eluialeth and Erestor,
Elrohir.
Glorfindel put down the letter, openly laughing at the contents therein. He placed a hand on Thalion's shoulder before standing up.
"I fear we must both go in the house, Thalion," Glorfindel said, "For you have a young Estel to feed and I have to get Erestor to call our group back from Minas Tirith before another war begins."
"Are they really that far from sane already?" Thalion asked as he followed Glorfindel.
Glorfindel nodded, "They should not have been forced to ride out in the first place but Erestor at least wished to uphold the pretense. Now, I fear we must recall them as soon as we are able. For everyone's sake, both here and in Gondor."
Thalion shook his head, "At least Rian is not with them."
Glorfindel smiled, "Oh, indeed, then we would already have a war on our hands."
Mirkwood, TA 2940
Tirnion bit back his smile at the taunt thrown at him, yet again, by one of his soldiers. Golvien, in fact, one of their best archers.
"Oh, it is you, Tirnion!" Golvien explained as she put down her bow, "Here we all thought you had been taken away and hidden in some Imladrian maiden's closet, never to be seen from again."
"So, tell us, why did you stay in Imladris for so long?" Galuverior asked as he leaned out from one of the tree branches.
"Is it not obvious? He must have a lovely little thing there." Lothon said, a wolfish grin across his handsome face.
"Perhaps they just wanted an exchange, we get Balanauth so they get Tirnion." Claurion stated as he quietly jumped down from his perch, soothing Tirnion's horse. "My wife has missed you dearly, Tirnion." Claurion said, his hair shining in the moonlight.
Tirnion smiled, "Sisters have a tendency to miss their siblings. How has Ormeril been?"
Claurion smiled, "Your sister has been quite well, though I am certain she is glad to have her brother back."
"As happy as we are to have our seneschal and true captain back." Lothon said as the others nodded in agreement.
Tirnion bowed his head, "Thank you, all of you. I will speak with Thranduil at length, as soon as I am settled."
"We pray that you do." Golvien said as she pulled back her hair, "For I fear we are all at our wits end with our supposed captain."
Galuverior sighed, "I told Seidron to stay away from that dragon."
Tirnion gave a nod to Galuverior, one of his most trusted soldiers, "Sound advice, Galuverior, but I fear Seidron can sometimes be a bit…"
"Hasty?" Lothon asked as they all began the walk to Thranduil's halls.
They were all on alert, Tirnion knew the reports of the spiders had been far from exaggerated.
"Hasty is perhaps not the best word." Tirnion said, a smile upon his face as they stood in front of the first set of gates to Thranduil's halls.
As the gate opened allowing them inside Tirnion could hear Golvien muttered words, "Foolish is more like it." she said.
"What are your feelings concerning the young Denethor?" Morwen asked as she laid all of her cards on the table.
"He seems oddly suspicious of us." Thandrog said as he clapped in victory, having won this round.
"Perhaps it is the ears." Baineth said much to the amusement of others.
"It may just be the fact that while we are present, he must be reminded there are much more powerful beings than he in the world. Such things do not go well with the brash arrogance of youth." Elrohir observed as he began to sketch out the gathered group, having long ago tired of the game.
"Like most young boys, he admires his father greatly." Baineth said.
"Ecthelion is a good man, even if I am certain he does not deserve such a lofty name." Thandrog said.
Elrohir shrugged, "He is a mere year older than Estel."
"And yet Aragorn seems much more the wiser." Morwen said, a tone of sadness in her voice. They would not be there to mark Estel's first decade on Arda, something she knew hurt not only Estel but Morwen and Elrohir as well.
"Be fair, they are both very young and they both have many things to learn. The simplest events can change a person, the smallest meeting can be a catalyst for change in character." Elrohir said.
"Or the simple event which allows for the rest of a fate to be revealed." Morwen agreed.
Thandrog looked back and forth between Morwen and Elrohir. Shaking his head he said, "You two have spent far too many hours contemplating the ways of fate and fortune."
Morwen turned to Thandrog, "You must admit, it is quite interesting how a being who was once great and good can be turned into an agent of darkness and death."
"It does hold a certain intrigue, but it is also studying history backwards." Thandrog said.
Morwen conceded the point, "It is much easer to supposedly find the cause when you have knowledge of the result."
"Now who has spent far too much time contemplating the meaning of things?" Baineth asked.
Morwen began to answer but stopped as she felt the first few drops of rain fall on her face.
"Oh good," Thandrog said, "Perhaps the city will be cleaned now."
Tirnion still had a smile on his face from the reunion with his mother and sisters. He had never been hugged so tightly in his life, and he was certain there would be bruises on his body tomorrow, but it was more than worth it. Moving his bulging pack from his back, he slipped a hand into the cloth sling around his shoulders, pressing his finger on the silver cat curled up inside.
"I apologize if you were crushed, they can be overenthusiastic when I am gone for very long." He informed his precious cargo.
The cat simply gave him a bored look and yawned, clearly far from concerned about Tirnion's own crushing bones. In all of his dreams he did not ever think he would have a cat as a pet, much less one from Imladris. That first day in the valley had proven him wrong, when the grey and silver cat had made his home on Tirnion's shoulder. Thandrog had insisted he take the cat when they rode out months ago. And if Thandrog stated a cat would be fine with travel, Tirnion would be a fool not to believe him. He had no desire to leave his feline friend in Imladris, even if Eluialeth had promised to watch after him. Tirnion had found a silent, yet sardonic, confidant in his cat and was only to happy to have him within the protective walls of Thranduil's halls. Thankfully the cat had never shown a desire to run outdoors so Tirnion did not have to fear for its life, knowing the spiders would eat any moving thing.
Pushing the door open to his room, he was amused to see it had been prepared for his arrival, as supposedly sudden as it had been. Tirnion had to acknowledge that, despite all appearances to the contrary, little passed without Thranduil knowing of it. The elven-king had welcomed Tirnion home and then warned him he would be sent out again sooner or later to handle the dealings in Lake Town. Seidron, sadly, was still recuperating from his extensive wounds. Tirnion would have to elect another second in the mean time, a much more competent one than the current captain of the guards. The captain who was not to stand down until the next year.
Thranduil had assured Tirnion he was not without a duty and while he was still seneschal, he could order the incompetent elf from his post.
Politics could never be escaped.
Tirnion sighed as he dropped his pack onto the bed and carefully placed the cat down. The cat, far too happy with a nice bed to dig his claws into, gave the room a cursory look before making himself comfortable in the middle of the bed. Tirnion laughed at the antics before he began to unpack.
He had brought home much more than he had left with. There were letters from friends and drawings of Elrohir's. The first few attempts at map making from Estel's childish hands and an account on the Battle of Fornost that Erestor himself had rendered in the most beautiful hand Tirnion had ever seen, all done at Eluialeth's bidding. There were figurines carved by Glorfindel's expert fingers and songs written by Lindir that had not yet been sung in Mirkwood's halls. There were Elladan's accounts on memorable and humorous moments and a few shirts Rian herself had made. Morwen had gifted him with an exquisite pendant designed by her own hand and forged by Elrond who, much to Tirnion's surprise, had great experience in such an area. There was also a whole book of lore written by Elrond to be gifted to the library of Mirkwood. It was a treasure to be sure and one Tirnion knew would be revered by the librarians. Deeper within the pack, in a small book written by the hand of Estel, with the help of Gilraen, laid the documents containing the research of Erestor, Morwen, and Eluialeth, the battle plans of Elrond and Glorfindel, the training techniques of Elladan, Elrohir, and many other warriors of Imladris. All of these things were treasures to him and he breathed a sigh as each emerged from his pack in pristine condition.
Hearing the knock on the door he turned as it opened, revealing the weary look sons of Thranduil, Berenon and Legolas.
"We heard of your return from the abyss." Legolas stated.
"It was not the abyss, Legolas, it was Imladris." Tirnion said as he pulled out the pendant from Morwen, a rendering of intertwined knots to symbolize eternal friendship.
"Quite similar," Legolas said, "for those who travel there seem to leave a bit of themselves behind. Rumors ran rapid that you would not return."
"That is why they are mere rumors, for I am here." Tirnion said.
"But you wish you were in Imladris." Legolas insisted.
Berenon gave his younger brother a dark look, "Legolas, be quiet. You have yet to travel this world extensively and to know that sometimes where we come from is not where we are meant to dwell for all of our days. If Tirnion had wished to stay in Imladris, he would have. He is here, with us, and while his heart may lie in Imladris, his home is here, for now."
"My heart does not lie in Imladris." Tirnion protested as he moved his books from the bed to the stone shelves.
"Of course it does." Berenon said, a certain twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
"Berenon, I have told you, Eluialeth and I…"
"I never said the name Eluialeth in regards to you heart. Did I, Legolas?" Berenon asked his brother.
Legolas smiled, the look almost blinding, "No, indeed dear brother, such a name never passed your lips."
Tirnion turned to regard the brothers, speechless as he stared into their laughing faces.
Berenon patted Tirnion on the shoulder, "Denial, it is so sweet to see it on other people. Why, I remember when father first insisted I was in love with.."
"I am not…" Tirnion tried to protest.
"They never think it can happen to them." Berenon said to Legolas. "Just wait until it happens to you, little brother."
Legolas scoffed, "I doubt such a thing will ever happen."
Tirnion and Berenon both raised their eyebrows at such a proclamation.
"You are aware that with those words, you have just ensured such a thing will happen." Tirnion stated as he tried not to outright laugh as Berenon had done. He shook his head at Legolas's actions silently praying he would be there to see the day when such a thing occurred.
Elrond looked at the letter from Mithrandir, containing more of an order than request. Elrond did not bother pretending he understood the workings of Mithrandir's mind. Walking into Erestor's office through their connected doorway he simply stated, "Warn the staff."
Erestor glanced up at Elrond, confusion on his face. His eyes rested on the letter Elrond held in his hands, "Is Mithrandir brining another Took to Imladris?" he asked. Mithrandir had, throughout the years, brought forth a fair share of adventurous haflings to Imladris.
"He did not say, he simply warns us that with the new year he will be stopping in Imladris for a night or two with a party consisting of many dwarves and one hobbit, at the very least. He will let us know more as the events become more clear." Elrond said, amusement clouding his otherwise serious tone.
Erestor sat back, "Well then, perhaps Elrohir will be back in time to see him again."
"Are you recalling them so soon?" Elrond asked, surprised at the quickness of their stay.
"Having read all of their reports, Morwen's very detailed one among them and Elrohir's pleading letter to Glorfindel, I must agree with them. They are wasting their time there. We would do better with them here and you know Elladan keeps pestering Gilraen to let him take Estel out into the woods for a few nights. She will only let such a thing happen if Elrohir is there as well." Erestor pushed away from his desk. "Furthermore…"
"All the reports show another White Council will soon occur." Elrond said, knowing his own thoughts on such a thing.
Erestor nodded, "It would be better if they were all present for whenever that event is held."
Elrond stood next to Erestor, "It will be held in either LothLorien or Isengard from what I can discern from the messages. I would feel much more secure in leaving Imladris if Elrohir and Morwen were here."
"Indeed." Erestor agreed. He turned back to his desk and folded his letter, sealing it. As he waited for the wax to harden he called for a page.
Elrond silently laughed as he imagined the joy the four elves in Minas Tirith would feel as they received the notification to return.
It was the most amusing paradox, young elves tried so hard to leave their home and once they did, all they wanted to do was return home.
Hearing Elladan's laughter down in the garden with Estel's joyful voice being carried on the wind, Elrond could not help but smile. It would be good to have his son back home. Now, if only he could get Arwen to return.
A/N: Thanks.
It has sort of occurred to me that since I have not received review notifications, some of you may not have received my replies to your reviews and private messages. Having finally realized that if you have made a reply and did not get one from me in return, I sincerely apologize. I did send the reply out, it just got lost in the lovely world of the internet.
Nima, I hope the new story stands up to expectations. Thank you for the review! Also, thank you for the kind words concerning my sister, but we have, indeed, coped with it well. As for my father, well, you know how it is, both the bitter and the sweet.
Renna, get to work! Seriously, thank you for reading and reviewing while you are so busy. I more than understand. Trust me, I will soon be online only briefly as three 20-25 page papers come due. Celebrian and those waiting in Aman are going to get their own little mini-series posted on the lj like the other two mini-series within the series. I just felt their story needed to be told as well. As for Morwen and Glorfindel its one of those yes and no type questions depending on how you define sex. Have they had full on intercourse to the point of being in danger of producing a child, no, but they are not chaste. As for it being awkward, of course, as it often is the first go round. One day that might even might be written, but since it's not exactly my forte, I may have to out source someone to do it as a co-writer…or main writer…or, we shall see. Good luck with all the work you have to do!