"Estel, what on earth are we doing here?" Legolas hissed as they stepped into the dimly lit tavern. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of unwashed bodies, vomit, and stale beer. It reminded him of a dwarf feast he once had the displeasure of attending.
"I'm meeting someone here today."
"And?" the twins asked expectantly as they followed their little brother.
"I had asked around about the possibilities of acquiring a dark-haired she-elf." Aragorn grinned lopsidedly at their impatience. This was going to be fun. Finally, some retribution for all the practical jokes over the years.
"And?" the three elves chorused.
"I said I would pay whatever it takes to get her." He pulled back the hood of his cloak.
"Valar, Estel!" Elrohir choked in disbelief, "You look -"
"Clean!" Elladan gasped, his gray eyes wide with amazement. "So that's the real color of your hair! I've always wondered."
"And in your festival best, too, I see." The blond elf prince smirked, holding open the ranger's cloak.
"I'm so glad you three smart asses think this is funny," he grinned smugly, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he crossed his arms across his chest and glared good-naturedly at them. "Because, guess what, you three get to be my slaves."
"What?!" the elves' eyebrows flew incredulously into their hairlines.
"You have to, for this deception to work. Now put these on." From the folds of his cloak he produced three gilded collars.
All three stepped away from him in horror.
"We are Firstborns, Estel. We are servants to no Edain!" Legolas spat indignantly.
"Calm down. Do you want to free Eldariel or not."
"Yes." The twins ground out through clenched teeth, glowering at their human brother as they snatched the collars from him.
Aragorn suppressed the urge to laugh outright at the disgruntled looks on their faces. He knew he would pay dearly for this, but right now it was worth it.
* * *
Eldariel huddled in the corner away from Lómion, pressing a dirty cloth to her right ear. The steward was as bad as his master when it came to meting out punishments for nothing. This time he had cut the tip off her ear for daring to look around.
Lómion watched the man approach. He was followed by not one, but three elves. This man had to be rich indeed to afford three of the Firstborn. They were said to be hard to capture on a good day and next to impossible on a bad one, which accounted for their high price.
"Master Lómion?" asked the stranger.
"M' lord Thorongil." The steward inclined his head in greeting.
"Have you had any luck?"
"Aye. Have you the promised price?"
The stranger nodded and tossed five bags onto the table. "Where is she?"
"I was told seven bags of gold, m' lord."
The man raised an eyebrow, "Your master was told four of gold and four large rubies. Are you planning on cheating him?"
Lómion merely looked obliquely at the man. "I know nothing of that, m' lord. I only collect what I am told to. Now, I would fork over the other three bags if you don't want this precious commodity going to another gentleman. You plan on breeding her to one of yours?"
"That is my business." Thorongil answered contemptuously. "Where is she?"
"Not until I see the money."
Suddenly, Lómion found himself hauled out of his seat and the point of a dagger pressed to his throat.
"I want to make sure she's worth the hike in price, scum. How do I know you aren't trying to cheat me?"
"There." the steward croaked, nodding toward the corner. "I'd watch her if I were you. Firstborns are nothing but trouble."
Thorongil grinned, glancing back at the elves he brought with him as he tossed the steward to the floor. "I'm well versed in the trouble they can cause, Master Lómion. But I thank you for the warning." He threw down four more bags at the man's feet, their contents spilling out and clinking against the worn planks of the floor. "Now, I suggest you get thee gone before I change my mind about being so generous with your sorry life."
With that, the steward gathered up the sacks, scuttled out of the tavern and back to his master.
"Sîdh, tithen pen." Thorongil whispered in elvish, cautiously moving toward the huddled figure. "I will not hurt you."
A soft whimper was his only answer.
"Come, you are free." He reached out slowly and unlatched the iron collar. "We've come to take you home."
"You are my master now?" came the tentative question.
"No." He smiled, cupping her chin in his hand. "You are a Firstborn. You are not a slave."
When he caught sight of the bloody rag, his anger threatened to boil over. Gently he pulled it away from her mutilated ear, gasping softly at the sight. What else had been done to her? He wondered silently, quickly scanning her for other more serious injuries.
"Elladan," he called softly to his eldest brother, "she's hurt bad. We need to get her back to the house and cleaned up."
Without another word, the elder twin swept over to her and effortlessly scooped her up in his strong arms.
"You are safe now, tithen thêl. Ada has waited long to have you back in his arms." The elf said in a choked whisper. "This will definitely be a Yule to remember."
"You are not his slaves?"
"No." Elrohir chuckled evilly, glancing slyly at Aragorn, "He's our little brother, and he's going to be paying dearly for a while for the indignity of appearing in public as such."
"I know. I know. I'll see both of you bright and early tomorrow morning for a massage, festival braiding and various assundry of horrid odd jobs that you two will cook up overnight."
The little she-elf smiled softly, more than slightly confused by this turn of fate, and rested her head against the dark-haired elf's shoulder. Within minutes she was fast asleep.
* * *
Elrond stood in front of the floor to ceiling bay window in his bed chamber, staring out into the crystal winter night.
"Why did you take her from me, Ilúvatar? Why do you punish me for cherishing her so?" he asked the night. "'Tis been a thousand years and the sorrow and grief have not abated."
Turning from the window, he sighed heavily as he stripped out of his deep burgundy velvet robe and slipped on a pair of buttery soft tawny buck skin leggings. The soft firelight danced over his pale golden skin, playing over the battle hardened muscles of his arms and chest. His waist length raven dark hair fell loose over his powerful shoulders. His stormy gray eyes brimmed with tears that he stubbornly refused to shed. He would not let his overwhelming grief shadow the Yule Festival for the others.
Laying down on his bed, he heaved a shaky sigh. He missed Celebrian most during Yule. She was the only one who had ever been able to soothe his tortured soul, for she too grieved Eldariel's loss.
He remembered how completely surprised he had been when Celebrian told him that she was with child again after so many long years. Eldariel had been born almost seventeen hundred years after Arwen. And from the minute of her birth, Eldariel had been his constant companion. The day she disappeared, he had been called to a birth and he had not been able to go play in the snow with them. He should not have let them go out alone.
"Oh, Cel, what a fool you have for a mate." He whispered to the dying fire. "What would you think of me now? Though I love all of my children with all of my heart, I can not seem to pull my heart out of Eldariel's grave."
Absently he ran his hand over the pillow where his wife's head would have lain if she had still been in Middle Earth. He closed his eyes against the terrible ache in his heart. He need her more than ever tonight. He had never felt so utterly alone. Silent tears escaped his eyes despite his efforts to keep them at bay. Finally, he gave himself up to his heartache. His body shook with the force of his silent sobs. However, it wasn't long before his exhausted mind dragged him down into a restless sleep.
* * *
"Arwen!" came a soft voice outside her door, breaking through her dreams. "Arwen, are you awake?"
Quickly she roused herself and wrapped a thick robe around her.
"Of course I'm not awake, you moron." She ground out through clenched teeth as she padded to the door.
"Arwen, come on, open up!" another voice whispered insistently.
"What, by all that is holy, do you four rogues want at this hour of the night?" She growled as she pulled open the door. "I hope this isn't one of your stupid practical jokes."
Her jaw dropped at the sight before her. Elladan cradled a bloodied young woman protectively against his breast. The look of triumph and weariness spoke volumes. He was anchoring her to this world.
"Help us get her cleaned up, Arwen." He said, pushing past her. "She's Ada's Yule present."
"What?"
"It's Eldariel." Elrohir explained as he threw open Arwen's wardrobe and began rummaging through her dresses. "We found her a week ago."
Legolas coughed and threw the younger twin an incensed glare.
"OK, Legolas found her on his way here."
"May I ask what's going on?" came a silky voice from the door. Glorfindel leaned
languidly against the door jam, a smug smirk playing over his slender lips.
"Ai!" Aragorn yelped softly as he pulled the elf lord into the room and glanced about the hallway. "'Ro, you were suppose to shut the door!"
"Sorry, Estel." Elrohir grinned as he held up one of Arwen's gossamer under things to his shoulders. "So what do you think? Is it me?"
Everyone but Arwen burst out laughing.
"Really! Elrohir, you're impossible!"
"If I'm so impossible, then why do I exist?"
"To put the rest of us through hell so we don't have to go there for real." Aragorn smarted back as he grabbed the under shift. "Glor, we have her. Elladan is trying to clean her up as much as he can."
The blond elf lord's eyes went wide and he strode into the bathing chamber. "Show me!" they heard him demand.
Legolas pushed Elrohir away from the wardrobe. "You know, my father would be horrified if he found out I was going through a lady's drawers right now." He smirked with an impish twinkle in his blue eyes.
"Think of what Ada would say if he found you in there, Legolas."
"Somehow I doubt he would ground me for a century just for looking. Do you really wear all this stuff underneath?"
"With all the tales we've heard about your exploits with Mirkwood she-elves, I'm surprised you even ask that."
Legolas looked her straight in the eye, smiling calmly, "Tales cooked up by my former valet after he was dismissed for stealing. I'm a virgin and I intend on staying that way."
"You're weirder than I first thought." Elrohir muttered, smacking the prince upside the head. "Don't you like girls?"
"Yes. I just don't want one telling me what to do all the time, that's all." He answered slapping the younger twin's hands away from the wardrobe.
"Have you found something suitable to dress her in?" Glorfindel said rolling his eyes at the conversation.
"Um."
"That's what I was afraid of." The blond elf lord shook his head in exasperation as he pulled a simple earth toned kirtle out of cupboard. "Your father will have clothing made for her later, but this will do for now."
"Were we right?" Elrohir asked anxiously.
Glorfindel nodded, his eyes glittering with tears. "Yes, little one." His voice barely above a whisper. "Now Elrond can stop grieving."
* * *
Elrond woke to muffled whispers outside his door. It was barely dawn and all five young ones were no doubt sitting on the top step whispering as loud as they could in an effort to wake him. It had always been this way. Though he really didn't want to get up.
"Shut up, Elladan!" he heard Estel hiss. "You know it's too early to wake Ada!"
"Why don't you go back to bed then, sissy."
"Jeez, you'd think after the massage you'd be in a better mood."
"I'm still mad about having to pose as your slave."
"But it was for a good cause, El."
"You are still going to be paying for the humiliation, twit."
Elrond's eyebrows knitted in confusion. What in Varda were they talking about? He decided he had better get up and find out. He shrugged on a soft high collared long tunic of emerald silk and opened the door, peering out into the dimly lit hall.
"What's going on? A body can't get any sleep with you five jockeying to see who can whisper the loudest at my keyhole."
Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas, grinned sheepishly while Arwen stood with her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes at them.
"Nice try, young lady. But I distinctly remember hearing your voice." Elrond chuckled.
"I see you're finally awake, my lord." Glorfindel snickered as he strolled down the hall.
"Who can sleep with the din these monsters make? You'd think they were toddlers instead of adults."
"I've often wondered about that myself."
"Come on, Ada!" the twins squeaked, unable to contain their excitement any longer. "Come on!"
His children surrounded him and dragged him down the stairs toward the Hall of Fire. He had never seen them so eager to open their gifts before, even when they were younger. A warning bell went off in his head.
"Hold on!" he said, pulling out of their grasp. "What are you five up to?"
Glorfindel caught his lord's eye and smiled. "Trust me, Elrond. You want to go in there."
What did his seneschal know?
"Go on Ada. You go first." Elladan said nodding toward the door.
Were there tears in his son's eyes? What was going on? Cautiously, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He gasped at the sight that met his eyes.
Curled up on the hearth was a small dark-haired girl, her eyes closed in exhausted slumber. Though her face had fading bruises on it, it was still youthful and beautiful. Even curled so tightly, she had the boneless grace that spoke of elven blood.
He just stood there watching her, unable to move, breathe, or think. This had to be a dream. Who was this child in his home? Then the realization hit him.
"No." he breathed in disbelief. "It can not be!"
The child stirred and opened frightened sliver gray eyes. Terrified she scrambled away from the elf lord.
"Sîdh, hên-nîn. I will not hurt you." He croaked, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "Do you not remember me, Arien-nîn?"
She stared at him blankly at first, then confusion lit her features. "No. . . no. . . no one knows that name. Who are you?"
Elrond held his hands out to her. Hesitantly, she laid her own in them. He watched her eyes study his face intently. It seemed eternity before she spoke again.
"A . . . Ada?" Tears streamed down her fair cheeks as she dropped her gaze to his hands. Her small, slender fingers slid over his callused palms, stopping when she came across his ring. "Vilya. Ada?"
"Yes." He whispered as he gathered her small form into his arms, his face wet with tears of joy. "Welcome home, my daughter."
"Happy Yule, Ada!" He heard the twins call behind him.
"Yes. It is that." He answered, cradling Eldariel to his breast and rocking her like he use to when she was a small child. He felt her sag against him. "You are home now, my sunshine. You are safe. No more harm will ever come to you. I promise."
"Sing, Ada." She whispered.
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penne míriel . . ." Elrond's voice, though soft, filled the chamber with sound. His face shone with the light of unmatched joy as he stroked his lost daughter's hair. His heart had been returned to him.
With time, all her hurts would be healed, but for now it was enough to know that all the things that her masters had told her over the centuries were lies. Her father did want her. In fact, he had been grieving her loss for a very long time.
"I'm home, Ada." Eldariel murmured quietly, snuggling closer to her father's warmth and laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I was gone so long."
Elrond hugged her closer, unwilling to let her go for fear this was all a dream. "Hannon le, híni-nîn. You have given me so much."
Arwen, the twins, and Aragorn all knelt around Elrond, who gathered them all in his arms.
"Come, Legolas." He said to the prince who seemed to retreat into the shadows. "Come little one. You are mine, too."
The blond elf smiled and joined the joyful embrace.
Author's Note: Merry Christmas to all of you in Tolkien Fandom. Have a Happy Holiday and fulfill my Christmas wish by reviewing. Read my other stories while you are at it. Still haven't seen ROTK yet, (frustrated sigh) Oh well, maybe after the holiday. LOL! ; ) ; )
"I'm meeting someone here today."
"And?" the twins asked expectantly as they followed their little brother.
"I had asked around about the possibilities of acquiring a dark-haired she-elf." Aragorn grinned lopsidedly at their impatience. This was going to be fun. Finally, some retribution for all the practical jokes over the years.
"And?" the three elves chorused.
"I said I would pay whatever it takes to get her." He pulled back the hood of his cloak.
"Valar, Estel!" Elrohir choked in disbelief, "You look -"
"Clean!" Elladan gasped, his gray eyes wide with amazement. "So that's the real color of your hair! I've always wondered."
"And in your festival best, too, I see." The blond elf prince smirked, holding open the ranger's cloak.
"I'm so glad you three smart asses think this is funny," he grinned smugly, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he crossed his arms across his chest and glared good-naturedly at them. "Because, guess what, you three get to be my slaves."
"What?!" the elves' eyebrows flew incredulously into their hairlines.
"You have to, for this deception to work. Now put these on." From the folds of his cloak he produced three gilded collars.
All three stepped away from him in horror.
"We are Firstborns, Estel. We are servants to no Edain!" Legolas spat indignantly.
"Calm down. Do you want to free Eldariel or not."
"Yes." The twins ground out through clenched teeth, glowering at their human brother as they snatched the collars from him.
Aragorn suppressed the urge to laugh outright at the disgruntled looks on their faces. He knew he would pay dearly for this, but right now it was worth it.
* * *
Eldariel huddled in the corner away from Lómion, pressing a dirty cloth to her right ear. The steward was as bad as his master when it came to meting out punishments for nothing. This time he had cut the tip off her ear for daring to look around.
Lómion watched the man approach. He was followed by not one, but three elves. This man had to be rich indeed to afford three of the Firstborn. They were said to be hard to capture on a good day and next to impossible on a bad one, which accounted for their high price.
"Master Lómion?" asked the stranger.
"M' lord Thorongil." The steward inclined his head in greeting.
"Have you had any luck?"
"Aye. Have you the promised price?"
The stranger nodded and tossed five bags onto the table. "Where is she?"
"I was told seven bags of gold, m' lord."
The man raised an eyebrow, "Your master was told four of gold and four large rubies. Are you planning on cheating him?"
Lómion merely looked obliquely at the man. "I know nothing of that, m' lord. I only collect what I am told to. Now, I would fork over the other three bags if you don't want this precious commodity going to another gentleman. You plan on breeding her to one of yours?"
"That is my business." Thorongil answered contemptuously. "Where is she?"
"Not until I see the money."
Suddenly, Lómion found himself hauled out of his seat and the point of a dagger pressed to his throat.
"I want to make sure she's worth the hike in price, scum. How do I know you aren't trying to cheat me?"
"There." the steward croaked, nodding toward the corner. "I'd watch her if I were you. Firstborns are nothing but trouble."
Thorongil grinned, glancing back at the elves he brought with him as he tossed the steward to the floor. "I'm well versed in the trouble they can cause, Master Lómion. But I thank you for the warning." He threw down four more bags at the man's feet, their contents spilling out and clinking against the worn planks of the floor. "Now, I suggest you get thee gone before I change my mind about being so generous with your sorry life."
With that, the steward gathered up the sacks, scuttled out of the tavern and back to his master.
"Sîdh, tithen pen." Thorongil whispered in elvish, cautiously moving toward the huddled figure. "I will not hurt you."
A soft whimper was his only answer.
"Come, you are free." He reached out slowly and unlatched the iron collar. "We've come to take you home."
"You are my master now?" came the tentative question.
"No." He smiled, cupping her chin in his hand. "You are a Firstborn. You are not a slave."
When he caught sight of the bloody rag, his anger threatened to boil over. Gently he pulled it away from her mutilated ear, gasping softly at the sight. What else had been done to her? He wondered silently, quickly scanning her for other more serious injuries.
"Elladan," he called softly to his eldest brother, "she's hurt bad. We need to get her back to the house and cleaned up."
Without another word, the elder twin swept over to her and effortlessly scooped her up in his strong arms.
"You are safe now, tithen thêl. Ada has waited long to have you back in his arms." The elf said in a choked whisper. "This will definitely be a Yule to remember."
"You are not his slaves?"
"No." Elrohir chuckled evilly, glancing slyly at Aragorn, "He's our little brother, and he's going to be paying dearly for a while for the indignity of appearing in public as such."
"I know. I know. I'll see both of you bright and early tomorrow morning for a massage, festival braiding and various assundry of horrid odd jobs that you two will cook up overnight."
The little she-elf smiled softly, more than slightly confused by this turn of fate, and rested her head against the dark-haired elf's shoulder. Within minutes she was fast asleep.
* * *
Elrond stood in front of the floor to ceiling bay window in his bed chamber, staring out into the crystal winter night.
"Why did you take her from me, Ilúvatar? Why do you punish me for cherishing her so?" he asked the night. "'Tis been a thousand years and the sorrow and grief have not abated."
Turning from the window, he sighed heavily as he stripped out of his deep burgundy velvet robe and slipped on a pair of buttery soft tawny buck skin leggings. The soft firelight danced over his pale golden skin, playing over the battle hardened muscles of his arms and chest. His waist length raven dark hair fell loose over his powerful shoulders. His stormy gray eyes brimmed with tears that he stubbornly refused to shed. He would not let his overwhelming grief shadow the Yule Festival for the others.
Laying down on his bed, he heaved a shaky sigh. He missed Celebrian most during Yule. She was the only one who had ever been able to soothe his tortured soul, for she too grieved Eldariel's loss.
He remembered how completely surprised he had been when Celebrian told him that she was with child again after so many long years. Eldariel had been born almost seventeen hundred years after Arwen. And from the minute of her birth, Eldariel had been his constant companion. The day she disappeared, he had been called to a birth and he had not been able to go play in the snow with them. He should not have let them go out alone.
"Oh, Cel, what a fool you have for a mate." He whispered to the dying fire. "What would you think of me now? Though I love all of my children with all of my heart, I can not seem to pull my heart out of Eldariel's grave."
Absently he ran his hand over the pillow where his wife's head would have lain if she had still been in Middle Earth. He closed his eyes against the terrible ache in his heart. He need her more than ever tonight. He had never felt so utterly alone. Silent tears escaped his eyes despite his efforts to keep them at bay. Finally, he gave himself up to his heartache. His body shook with the force of his silent sobs. However, it wasn't long before his exhausted mind dragged him down into a restless sleep.
* * *
"Arwen!" came a soft voice outside her door, breaking through her dreams. "Arwen, are you awake?"
Quickly she roused herself and wrapped a thick robe around her.
"Of course I'm not awake, you moron." She ground out through clenched teeth as she padded to the door.
"Arwen, come on, open up!" another voice whispered insistently.
"What, by all that is holy, do you four rogues want at this hour of the night?" She growled as she pulled open the door. "I hope this isn't one of your stupid practical jokes."
Her jaw dropped at the sight before her. Elladan cradled a bloodied young woman protectively against his breast. The look of triumph and weariness spoke volumes. He was anchoring her to this world.
"Help us get her cleaned up, Arwen." He said, pushing past her. "She's Ada's Yule present."
"What?"
"It's Eldariel." Elrohir explained as he threw open Arwen's wardrobe and began rummaging through her dresses. "We found her a week ago."
Legolas coughed and threw the younger twin an incensed glare.
"OK, Legolas found her on his way here."
"May I ask what's going on?" came a silky voice from the door. Glorfindel leaned
languidly against the door jam, a smug smirk playing over his slender lips.
"Ai!" Aragorn yelped softly as he pulled the elf lord into the room and glanced about the hallway. "'Ro, you were suppose to shut the door!"
"Sorry, Estel." Elrohir grinned as he held up one of Arwen's gossamer under things to his shoulders. "So what do you think? Is it me?"
Everyone but Arwen burst out laughing.
"Really! Elrohir, you're impossible!"
"If I'm so impossible, then why do I exist?"
"To put the rest of us through hell so we don't have to go there for real." Aragorn smarted back as he grabbed the under shift. "Glor, we have her. Elladan is trying to clean her up as much as he can."
The blond elf lord's eyes went wide and he strode into the bathing chamber. "Show me!" they heard him demand.
Legolas pushed Elrohir away from the wardrobe. "You know, my father would be horrified if he found out I was going through a lady's drawers right now." He smirked with an impish twinkle in his blue eyes.
"Think of what Ada would say if he found you in there, Legolas."
"Somehow I doubt he would ground me for a century just for looking. Do you really wear all this stuff underneath?"
"With all the tales we've heard about your exploits with Mirkwood she-elves, I'm surprised you even ask that."
Legolas looked her straight in the eye, smiling calmly, "Tales cooked up by my former valet after he was dismissed for stealing. I'm a virgin and I intend on staying that way."
"You're weirder than I first thought." Elrohir muttered, smacking the prince upside the head. "Don't you like girls?"
"Yes. I just don't want one telling me what to do all the time, that's all." He answered slapping the younger twin's hands away from the wardrobe.
"Have you found something suitable to dress her in?" Glorfindel said rolling his eyes at the conversation.
"Um."
"That's what I was afraid of." The blond elf lord shook his head in exasperation as he pulled a simple earth toned kirtle out of cupboard. "Your father will have clothing made for her later, but this will do for now."
"Were we right?" Elrohir asked anxiously.
Glorfindel nodded, his eyes glittering with tears. "Yes, little one." His voice barely above a whisper. "Now Elrond can stop grieving."
* * *
Elrond woke to muffled whispers outside his door. It was barely dawn and all five young ones were no doubt sitting on the top step whispering as loud as they could in an effort to wake him. It had always been this way. Though he really didn't want to get up.
"Shut up, Elladan!" he heard Estel hiss. "You know it's too early to wake Ada!"
"Why don't you go back to bed then, sissy."
"Jeez, you'd think after the massage you'd be in a better mood."
"I'm still mad about having to pose as your slave."
"But it was for a good cause, El."
"You are still going to be paying for the humiliation, twit."
Elrond's eyebrows knitted in confusion. What in Varda were they talking about? He decided he had better get up and find out. He shrugged on a soft high collared long tunic of emerald silk and opened the door, peering out into the dimly lit hall.
"What's going on? A body can't get any sleep with you five jockeying to see who can whisper the loudest at my keyhole."
Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas, grinned sheepishly while Arwen stood with her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes at them.
"Nice try, young lady. But I distinctly remember hearing your voice." Elrond chuckled.
"I see you're finally awake, my lord." Glorfindel snickered as he strolled down the hall.
"Who can sleep with the din these monsters make? You'd think they were toddlers instead of adults."
"I've often wondered about that myself."
"Come on, Ada!" the twins squeaked, unable to contain their excitement any longer. "Come on!"
His children surrounded him and dragged him down the stairs toward the Hall of Fire. He had never seen them so eager to open their gifts before, even when they were younger. A warning bell went off in his head.
"Hold on!" he said, pulling out of their grasp. "What are you five up to?"
Glorfindel caught his lord's eye and smiled. "Trust me, Elrond. You want to go in there."
What did his seneschal know?
"Go on Ada. You go first." Elladan said nodding toward the door.
Were there tears in his son's eyes? What was going on? Cautiously, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He gasped at the sight that met his eyes.
Curled up on the hearth was a small dark-haired girl, her eyes closed in exhausted slumber. Though her face had fading bruises on it, it was still youthful and beautiful. Even curled so tightly, she had the boneless grace that spoke of elven blood.
He just stood there watching her, unable to move, breathe, or think. This had to be a dream. Who was this child in his home? Then the realization hit him.
"No." he breathed in disbelief. "It can not be!"
The child stirred and opened frightened sliver gray eyes. Terrified she scrambled away from the elf lord.
"Sîdh, hên-nîn. I will not hurt you." He croaked, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "Do you not remember me, Arien-nîn?"
She stared at him blankly at first, then confusion lit her features. "No. . . no. . . no one knows that name. Who are you?"
Elrond held his hands out to her. Hesitantly, she laid her own in them. He watched her eyes study his face intently. It seemed eternity before she spoke again.
"A . . . Ada?" Tears streamed down her fair cheeks as she dropped her gaze to his hands. Her small, slender fingers slid over his callused palms, stopping when she came across his ring. "Vilya. Ada?"
"Yes." He whispered as he gathered her small form into his arms, his face wet with tears of joy. "Welcome home, my daughter."
"Happy Yule, Ada!" He heard the twins call behind him.
"Yes. It is that." He answered, cradling Eldariel to his breast and rocking her like he use to when she was a small child. He felt her sag against him. "You are home now, my sunshine. You are safe. No more harm will ever come to you. I promise."
"Sing, Ada." She whispered.
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penne míriel . . ." Elrond's voice, though soft, filled the chamber with sound. His face shone with the light of unmatched joy as he stroked his lost daughter's hair. His heart had been returned to him.
With time, all her hurts would be healed, but for now it was enough to know that all the things that her masters had told her over the centuries were lies. Her father did want her. In fact, he had been grieving her loss for a very long time.
"I'm home, Ada." Eldariel murmured quietly, snuggling closer to her father's warmth and laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I was gone so long."
Elrond hugged her closer, unwilling to let her go for fear this was all a dream. "Hannon le, híni-nîn. You have given me so much."
Arwen, the twins, and Aragorn all knelt around Elrond, who gathered them all in his arms.
"Come, Legolas." He said to the prince who seemed to retreat into the shadows. "Come little one. You are mine, too."
The blond elf smiled and joined the joyful embrace.
Author's Note: Merry Christmas to all of you in Tolkien Fandom. Have a Happy Holiday and fulfill my Christmas wish by reviewing. Read my other stories while you are at it. Still haven't seen ROTK yet, (frustrated sigh) Oh well, maybe after the holiday. LOL! ; ) ; )