Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own any of the character, places, names, or anything associated with the works of J.R.R Tolkien or the Lord of the Rings (books or movie, whatever). My characters are Anita, Leila, and Arlandria and that is all.

Chapter 33: Emotionless

Anita hadn't so much as twitched a muscle and her breathing remained shallow and even; but Elladan could see that the girl's eyes had snapped into focus, and without a doubt he held her attention completely. It was after all the one thing she had been asking about for the seven years she had been residing in Rivendell, so the older elf knew that no matter how truly grieved she was about her falling out with Legolas, nothing would get in her way of learning the truth about her origins. Without waiting for any further clue or source of encouragement from his child; Elladan launched into his narrative…

" I met your mother many hundreds of years ago. Her family lived on a small farm near the border of our lands, a few hours ride from the front gate; she born and raised far from city life. Every few days she would come to Rivendell to buy and trade for items that her parents needed out on the farm; since they dreadfully hated coming into the valley they always sent Arlandria in their stead.

I loved her from the first moment I saw her. She was beautiful, and wild; having NOT been raised on any of the societal rules and protocols that were expected of young ladies of nobility. Arlandria did not stand on ceremony, she treated everyone as equals regardless of status, and she wasn't afflicted with false manners. She was true, and honest, and the gentlest soul I had ever met; but she was also the most fiercely independent elleth I had ever encountered.

When I first met her, she was betrothed to another elf, which did little to discourage my affections towards her. Any excuse I could create to give myself the opportunity to talk to her, I did. No one was blind to my feelings for her, but I did not care. I spent hours talking to her, helping her tend to the needs of her family farm while she was in town, any reason to spend my time with her; I was infatuated. This went on for many, many years, and nothing anyone said could dishearten my pursuit of her.

I can remember the day , very clearly still, when news reached me that her contract had been broken and she was no longer bound. I do not know what happened, the thought never occurred to me to ask the circumstances of why she was no longer betrothed, I just remember feeling overjoyed. Arlandria knew how I felt towards her; my intentions were too marked to be mistaken for anything else. I do believe that knowing how I felt was one of the reasons she sought me out once the news spread.

Our relationship from that point was very….what is the word….whirlwind? There was nothing appropriate about it, there wasn't a single rule we followed. I was so infatuated, so very in love; that I never was deterred by how extreme our behavior became. I amiably followed her lead to whatever end. There was nothing I would not have done had Arlandria asked it of me; if she had requested the moon I would have been persuaded to go and fetch it for her. I was so blinded by the depth of my feelings towards her that I never stopped to question the future we were creating for ourselves.

My father, Elrond, he was very outspoken in his distaste for our relationship, and her father was scarcely less so. But I was convinced that we didn't need the approval of our parents , and that the social mores were made only to keep us apart. That is how enthralled I was, so desperate to have her and make her mine. In the two hundred years we vied in the face of our parents' disapproval, two hundred years we turned out back on society, and in two hundred years I never once, not one time, did I consider the consequences.

But all too soon the consequences caught up with me. I remember as though it were yesterday when Dria told me that we had conceived a child together. I was dumbstruck. I was flabbergasted. But more than that, I was elated. I had been a fool in my youth, a downright terror; nothing made me change my ways faster than the prospect of fatherhood. I was ready to marry her, taker her to my side and make her my wife and raise the child we can made as a family, the proper way. Her father demanded that I do just that, but even without his demands I was willing. Elrond too, insisted that I amend the situation. The three of us were in agreement….it was Arlandria who was not.

I begged her, pleaded with her to allow me this; to grant me my greatest wish and make her my wife. But Arlandria, she was stubborn. She insisted that we marry on our own terms, in our own time, instead of being forced by societal pressure. She wanted to wait until after the child was borne to us, and then we could wed. Dria, she swore to me, that she wanted to marry and make us a family, but that she would not be made to marry because propriety required it. As I said before, I would have given her the moon if she asked me for it. So when she agreed to marry me, but only after the birth of the child when society could no longer have control, I did not question her.

Fool in love that I was, I went along with her ridiculous plan; she would go into hiding until after the child came and only then would she return and we could marry. I never asked for details, I trusted her beyond my reason. Gandalf had agreed to help us, to help Dria find a place where she could hide until the scandal of it all passed over. Mithrandir, he asked me if I truly did support Arlandria's decision; but since I had no real idea what her decision was I had no choice but to agree.

Gandalf took Arlandria and hide her away, our only communication were letters passed through the wizard. She told me all about Tucson and how she loved it there, about how different life was, how different the people were. I was there the day you were born, I was the first to hold you when you sprang from your mother's womb. You and Leila, you were so tiny, and so perfect. However strongly I loved your mother, I can say with very ounce of honesty in my heart that I have never known a love so strong as when I first held you and your sister.

I thought that once you were born, we could return to Rivendell a family. But Dria refused, saying it was not good for your health to leave Tucson with you so small. I allowed her to stay, I thought perhaps with a little time she would be ready and see it fit to return to our own world. Arlandria did not though. Time continued to pass, and each time I would suggest a return to Middle Earth, she would have a new excuse why she and the children could not. I began to realize with every new excuse that she meant not to return ever. When I confronted her about it, Arlandria was quite honest with me.

She admitted that, no, she did not intend to return to Rivendell. She did not intend on returning to Middle Earth. When I asked for her reasoning, she told me that she would not have her two daughters growing up as slaves to society. Dria hated the rules and the propriety and all the forced mannerisms of living in Rivendell. She knew that returning as my wife and raising you there meant she would have to conform to those rules and mores, and that you would be brought up in such a society. And she could not stomach the thought.

Living in Tucson, preparing for your birth, she saw the vast difference in the two societies, the two worlds. She believed that you and your sister would have a freer life, a happier life by remaining in that world. Arlandria had decided months before you were born that she would not be returning to Rivendell with you, and that she would raise you and your sister as humans in that world, never to know your heritage or the truth of your kinsman. I was devastated, I had never known such an acute heartache in my lifetime. In the span of a few short months, I had seen everything I wanted dangled within my reach only to have it ripped from me. I beseeched her not to be so brash, to come home and we could decide what was best for our children together. But she was always such a stubborn woman, and I was torn between the love of a woman and the love of my infant daughters, still I was enough in love with her that I would give her whatever she wanted.

Arlandria asked me not to have contact, to allow her to raise you two on her own in that world far away from where our harsh society's claws could tear at you. She wanted to allow you to be free of elven stigmas and expectations, the restrictions that our people would place upon your merely because of your gender. And like a fool I gave her what she asked for. In return for my compliance I entreated only one thing of your mother; I asked only that when you were old enough that you be given the choice to know the truth of your past. She agreed, and we parted ways, and until your eighteenth birthday that was the last time I saw you. She remained in Tucson with you and your twin, and I returned to Rivendell; where I waited like a dog begging for scraps at a table- waiting for a letter where she might tell me how you were, perhaps a picture of how you aged.

When you and your sister agreed to come to Rivendell to meet me, I was beyond emotion that can be described with mere words. I did not however want the history between your mother and myself to taint your perception of a world where you belonged, so I asked that this truth be hidden from you. I had hoped in time, as you grew to know and love this world that the reasons it was hidden from you for so long would no longer matter because it would be your home. With Leila, this was true. She did not need to know the whitherto's or the wherefor's to know that this was her home and this is where she belonged, regardless of the past. But you, you were never satisfied with that. Anita you always needed to know why, and what, and who. You were never content with accepting circumstances for what they were.

And now of all times, more deeply than anything else I regret not telling you the truth of your mother. If I had been honest, perchance I could have saved you some of the pain you feel now, I could have spared you the broken heart you now suffer. When I saw you with the Prince of Mirkwood, I was so much reminded of your own mother and myself; that I was filled with dread and fear for you. I tried to keep you from Legolas, but it seems the harder I tried to separate you the closer I pushed you together. There is no greater remorse that I know, no harsher truth, than to understand that it was my own folly and lies that led to you getting hurt. To know that I could have saved you all this, if my pride had no prevented me from being honest. And for that I am truly deeply sorry."

As Elladan finished speaking, he turned to look at his daughter hoping to see some reaction out of her. Ani was still curled on her side with her raven hair sprawled across the pillows. He waited as the minutes ticked by, praying that somehow this had brought her out of her trance. It was the only help he had to offer, the only remedy he had for her ailment. But as time stretched and there was no change in her demeanor, the older elf began to lose hope that this had changed anything.

"Glo." Elladan was ready to get up and leave in silence when the sound of Anita's voice startled him. "Mom was betrothed to Glorfindel."

It took him nearly a full moment to recover the use of his voice before he could respond. "Quite right. Your mother was betrothed to the captain of the guard. I am not so egocentric to believe that fact is one reason he harbored hostility towards me and even towards you for many years." Ani sat up suddenly, her eyes still trained on the picturesque scene she had painted across the walls. Elladan was shocked by the vast change in her behavior; and for fear of scaring her like a fawn in the forest, he did not dare move an inch.

"Mom left you." It wasn't a question directed at himself, Elladan knew that, for across his daughter's face he could see the struggle as she strained to understand the fact. She continued to repeat the statement several times as though the words were of a foreign language she had never before heard.

In all her years of harboring hatred towards her father, the thought had never occurred to her that this scenario was even a possibility; she had never even entertained the thought that her mother had been the one to leave her father. But despite all that, Anita knew in her heart that it was true. It made sense, why her mother had never spoken of their father – not even to speak ill of him, and why it was that her mother had allowed such freedom in their upbringing. Anita knew beyond any doubt that her father was telling her the truth. The fuzziness that had been clouding her mind immediately vanished as reality sank in, and she tore her gaze away from the wall to look at her dad.

"All these years, this whole time you let me be mad at you for something that wasn't even your fault. I've been horrible to you, I mean I've said some really crappy things. Why did you take that? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Anita, you would not have believed me before now. We both know that. You had hated me for so long, and distrusted me so thoroughly that anything I said in contradiction to what you believed- whether it was the truth or not- you would have accepted as a lie."

The dark haired girl leaned forward and rested he head in her hands as it became apparent to her how long she had focused her anger and hatred at a person who certainly hadn't deserved it. "This doesn't change the fact that you lied." Her words were muffled , spoken through the cracks between her fingers.

"No," Elladan agreed with his child, "No it certainly does not change that. I but hope that by telling you the truth that you could perhaps understand my reasoning for what I did, both in your childhood and with your relationship with the prince. And that maybe the answers you have sought for so long would finally be given to you. I am not too ashamed to admit that I did not have the strength of heart to tell you the truth, and that it is easier to justify lies by believing that any lie that creates a smile is better than a truth that draws a tear."

Anita pulled her head out of her hands just long enough to shoot her father an incredulous look and scoff at him.

"It is true," he countered, "In my heart I believed that I was protecting your wellbeing by hiding the truth. But I see now that I have done more damage than good. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Elladan wrapped his arms around Ani and gave her a gentle hug, which for the first time she did not recoil from. Releasing his grip on the young girl, he stood and began to head toward the door. Before turning the handle to leave, he faced his child once more, "If it still burdens your heart too much to see him, you have my permission to take your dinner in your room."

"Dad?" Elladan's heart skipped a full beat in his chest as his child called to him as he stepped out the door. The one thing he had desired to be called, to be acknowledged as since the day his children returned home….father. Pushing his swelling emotion back into a precarious check, he turned to look at his daughter again. She was still sitting on the bed, but the color had returned to her cheeks making her look far more lively than she had in days. Ani gave him a small genuine smile. "Thank you."

Emotionless- Good Charlotte