Read this: *whoosh* I just realized I made a mondo large mistake- I uploaded the wrong thing for chapter 8 *argh* so *if you want* you can go back and re-read it *sorry everyone (*

(A/N: thanks for the review faerie-elf *grins* obviously she doesn't die, because then the story would pretty much be over *laugh*. 55 reviews! *yay!* all I can say is thank you- thank you- thank you!!! Thanks feanen, icy878, little-lost-one, and little-lost-one again! Something between Aisto and Canyaiel- maybe *haha* And Elrohir and Elladan are just angry- I mean, their mother just left and the next time they see her will be a really long time or never [because they're Half-Elves and they have the choice] so they're just a *little* upset. Thanks Lilena- Canyaiel has probably spoken maybe once or twice in those 200 years *laughing at the looking up skirt comment* Review count: 55!! *wow* keep 'em coming!)

(A/N Again: sorry for the delay *argh* I have major writers block. This chapter is a bit long, but I don't think you guys will mind- Canyaiel does a lot of growing up here. Tell me what you guys think, personally, I think its crap, but its necessary crap *haha*)

"Who goes there?" I asked.

The Elf sighed, "To think- even after nearly two millennia you still forget your sister's voice."

"I have no sister," I responded without hesitation.

"Listen, stubborn Canyaiel. I have many things to explain to you." I could not admit that I was curious to know what these were, so I just sat there perfectly still.

"If you even care, climb up here," I finally decided to say. After half an hour of attempting to climb the tree, Calwaiel made it up.

"Nearly two-thousand years," Calwaiel said softly, sitting next to her sister, "Many things have changed."

"Really," I said, trying to sound uninterested.

"Mother has passed the sea, you know." I glanced up at her, meeting my eyes with her identical ones.

"She was grieving because of father," Calwaiel looked down at the ground, "And by you. She thought you were dead."

"She thought I was dead?" I repeated softly then said harshly, "She would not even care- even if I was dead!"

"Yes, yes she would. She loved you."

"I'm sure of it," I said, curtly, "if you died- or if she thought you died, she would marry me off so she would never have to speak or see me again- then she would leave without even telling me." Calwaiel got quiet.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked.

"I am betrothed to an Elf-"

"Who?" I replied, absolutely shocked.

"An Elf named Náro."

"Náro? That ridiculous Elf? He has an opinion of himself the size of Middle Earth and is ruder than anyone I have ever met!"

"He is not that horrible," she replied, looking away for a moment, "He is quite kind once one gets to know him- and loving."

"I can not imagine- but, I wish to speak of other matters." Calwaiel seemed to know of these matters. She looked away for a moment.

"What were you doing- that day; the last day that I saw Legolas?"

"I-" she paused, seeming as if she was trying to find the right words, "I was jealous," she finally said quickly, but when she did say it, it almost seemed as if she was relieved.

"Jealous? There is nothing to be jealous of," I laughed.

She huffed a bit and glared at me, "Don't be silly- everyone knows that you are the exciting and outgoing one, the one that everyone wants to be friends with, the one that is not afraid to do things unexpected or defy your elders."

"Oh do not be ridiculous, you are the charmer in the family. Everyone wants to be with you- don't tell me you did not notice all the Elves lining up to dance with you at the balls, or how when we were younger," I let out a laugh, "How when we were younger and we went shopping with mother and all the Elven maidens would come up and say how beautiful you were and what pretty dresses you wore. Then, they would walk away and not even notice me- except for a rare few, who would just say something about having pretty eyes."

Calwaiel looked away.

"Remember? You are the 'beautiful-daughter' and I am just the 'bold- daughter'," I let out a forced laugh which just sounded bitter.

"Have you ever," she paused, "you know, wanted to switch places?"

I sighed, but could not think of the right words to say.

"I was jealous," she replied, looking at me, "Come on, don't tell me you did not notice- notice the Elven princes who were bowing down to you and always wanted to be with you."

"What Elven princes do you speak of?"

Her cheeks turned to the color of rose, "Elrohir, Elladan, and Legolas, of course. I thought- I thought, well, I thought that you already had Elrohir, that you wouldn't mind if I-" her voice trailed off and all I heard was, "Legolas."

"Elrohir and I? That is quite ludicrous!" I felt anger tearing at me, "I- Legolas- I-" I sighed, "What were you doing that day- I want to know exactly."

"I, I don't," she paused, "Legolas was different. I knew I could never be with him- we have no royal blood in us. He was striking- intriguing if I might say," she laughed nervously then sighed, "I just wanted to know what it was like, as you know, to be close to a prince."

"I," I paused then cried out, "Why were you pretending to be me?"

Her face flashed with anger for a passing moment, "I wasn't! I can't believe- who told you such a thing?"

"I don't know, I just thought you were," I replied, confused and angry. I let out a deep breath through my teeth.

"I told him that I was Calwaiel," she replied, sounding even more confused than I did.

"Pardon?"

"I told him I was Calwaiel," she repeated slowly, enunciating her words even more than usual.

"No you did not!" I shouted back, crawling away from her, "You let him believe that you were me."

"He thought I was you, until I told him."

"When? After he expressed his undying love to you?" I let out a loud groan.

"I- I," she paused, "Oh, Canyaiel. I do not know! I am so confused- it was just a- I do not know," she said again.

"Why did you do it?" I replied, giving her a cold glare, "Why?"

"I was keen on him, also, as much as you."

"And you couldn't let me have him? You have every other Elf in all of Imladris and you were too selfish-"

"I was not being selfish!" she shouted back. I immediately stopped- never in all of my life had I heard her as angry as this, "Canyaiel, you know- you know- that I was not being foolish- I thought I was in lov-" she paused, her ears reddening, "I am sorry."

"I hate you," I replied. Suddenly, I had an urge to push her off the branch, and I did. She fell, trying to grab on to something, but not succeeding and falling on the grass.

However, she landed nimbly on her feet, "I told you I was sorry- I can't change anything that I did! I can not go back to history and fix everything."

"Well you shouldn't have done anything in the first place!" I shouted back, "You dirty shameless-" I couldn't think of something to call her, "You disgust me!"

She grew angry, "Well I'm not leaving until we are on good terms." I didn't say anything to her, but just sat still on the tree, thinking.

"I wonder where my Lencundu is," I murmured softly to myself. I looked down and noticed Calwaiel was asleep. I jumped from the tree easily, not making a sound, and I ran back to my old home. Everything was exactly where it was those many years ago. Good.

I took my trunk and opened it, wiping the dust from the lid. I took out the dress on top, which happened to be the dark blue one that I wore to the banquet so long ago. How did it get there? I thought I left it at the palace. I shrugged it off and looked around my old room. I took the blanket and the pillow that lay on my bed, full of dust.

I shoved them into the trunk and walked to the mirror. I took one of my sister's combs- she wouldn't mind. With difficulty, I dragged the trunk all the way back to my home, where my horse, Lómverco, a beautiful golden stallion with white spots, was waiting.

"Oh, Lómverco, I am so sorry," I responded, quickly running to the river and getting him some water. I smiled. He was the descendant of Malthenaur- the descendant of Lúthalanthir and Maranwo, Arwen's previous horse.

I took my trunk and dragged it into my home, unpacking all of my things. I noticed a long piece of paper in the bottom of the trunk. I took it out- it was in Legolas's handwriting- I would know, after reading the small note he wrote me.

'Dearest, I have much to write to you, yet, I can not seem to find the words to say. The day is the 50th of Echuir. Why do you not respond to my letters? I wish to speak with you, but I can not. I merely wished to write to you, to tell you that I loved you, and that I will see you, maybe not soon, but as soon as I can make it to Imladris. Love, Legolas.'

The 50th day of Echuir- four days ago. I shook my head. I hate Calwaiel.

I drowned in my misery for the next four-forty years. I did not leave my comfortable home- only when I needed to, which was just to buy food- with the sole exception in the year III 2933, 18 years ago, where I went to help care for the human boy, Estel.

He had grown significantly- as humans grow very quickly.

I walked outside, the sunlight burning my eyes. I pet my horse and gave her some water.

"Elensúla," I murmured, petting her long soft golden ears. I decided that today would be a good day to practice my sword fighting- as I had not done that since I was in Lórien- many years ago.

I took my sword and bow and quiver and ran quickly to the meadow. I was glad to find no one else there, yet, I was disappointed.

Sometimes, though I would not admit it, I would wish to return to those days so long ago, when I was still friends with Elrohir, and he could teach me how to use my sword, and practice with it.

I sighed wishfully to myself and took my sword out from my back. I placed the quiver and bow on the ground and let my fingers glide over the smooth silver blade of the sword- still sharp.

I held it, ready to attack anybody that was there- but there was no body. I twirled my sword in my hand, and sliced it down into an imaginary person. I wove around and ducked about imaginary people and slay them all.

I laughed evilly and loudly. Then I sighed contentedly to myself- yes, this poor excuse for a maiden still has it.

I felt a cold sliver of metal at my neck- a sword.

"What are you doing here?" came a voice. It sounded familiar- I shook my head, wildly, trying to free myself, but that was not a smart idea, I felt a few drops of blood flowing from my neck.

What should I do? I got nervous, but grabbed the sword, ignoring the cut on my hand, and threw it across the meadow and in one fluid motion I picked my sword up, ready to attack.

I released my sword as soon as I realized who it was, "Am I not permitted by the great prince to be here?" I asked loudly and angrily.

"Come on, I did not mean for you to grow angry," Elrohir responded. I let out a very unladylike snort and rubbed the blood from my neck.

"And I am sure you did not mean for me to get angry when you called me a silly foolish maiden who couldn't care for herself," I fired back.

Elrohir frowned to himself and pouted slightly, "Oh, Anvanima, I am sorry. I was angry and foolish and I am afraid I was not thinking."

"Leave me be. I can practice by myself," I replied, not even listening to what he said.

"You need someone to sword fight with."

"No I don't," I replied, feeling my neck, which was now bleeding profusely, "If you will not leave me alone in my misery, then I shall leave you. Good day." I picked up my quiver and bow and sword and walked back to my home.

"Come on, Canyaiel, wait!"

"Go away. Leave me alone. You leave me for hundreds of years without a single goodbye and still expect us to be friends- I think not."

"I am sorry," he replied, pulling me back, "I was so overwhelmed with everything that was happening, my mother-"

"Save your words for someone who wishes to hear them," I snapped back, "You think you are the only one with problems?"

"No, I never said-"

"You were implying it," I replied, walking toward me home.

He followed me, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to leave."

He stopped and grabbed my shoulder, "Do you really want me to leave? Can you look at me and say that?" I turned around, and looked him in the eye.

I couldn't say anything, but I threw my arms around him, "You are the most disagreeable Elf I know!"

He laughed, "Yes, yes, but I am sorry," he picked me up and twirled me around then let me down and walked with me to my home.

"Oh, you will never guess- there is someone I'd like you to meet," he said excitedly, taking my hand and leading me back to the palace as soon as we reached the door of my home. I pulled my hand away, placed my weapons in the shed, and he took my hand again. He led me to a very young human, clad in Elven clothing, standing next to Elladan.

"Is this Estel?" I asked, "My, my, you have grown much since I last saw you."

He pouted, slightly and I just laughed. He and Elladan left to the dining hall.

"Arwen is returning soon," Elrohir said, smiling. I sighed happily to myself. She, in fact, did return that night.

"Oh, Arwen, many years it has been," I said, running up to her, smiling. She smiled back only slightly. I sighed at seeing her so upset, but knew I could do nothing. I felt so helpless.

"It is good to see you again, Canyaiel, I have missed you." I smiled.

The next day was quite a confusing one.

"Elladan, where is Estel, for I wish to speak with him," I said, wondering if he knew why Arwen was behaving oddly.

"Oh, did you not know? He left for the Wilderland."

I nodded slowly, "Thank you." Arwen left later the next year for Lórien, again.

"Lord Elrond, tell me about the one ring," I said, walking in the palace one day, sixty-six years later in the year III 3018, to Lord Elrond.

He looked shocked, appalled, and dazed, yet at the same time he looked as if he was unsure, "My, my, where ever do you come up with these things, Canyaiel?"

I laughed, "The orc attacks have been more frequent and all I hear of is 'the ring.' Tell me the story of it."

He laughed a little unsure but started anyway, "Come, let us sit somewhere and allow me to tell you the story." I nodded and we walked to a small private garden and sat on a little bench.

"It started many years ago, long before you were born, Sauron, the Maiar of Aulë, was corrupted by the Dark Lord. He used deception to force the Elves of Eregion make rings- sixteen in total- nine for mortal men and seven for the dwarves. Sauron forged his own ring, in the land of Mordor; in the heart of the mountain- it had the ability to control all other rings. Yet, his plan failed, for the Elves had made their own rings- three. They found that they were betrayed and Sauron recovered fifteen of the first rings, for the three Elven rings were hidden. Sauron twisted the nine human men into wraiths, but the dwarves proved resistant. Eventually came the downfall of Númenor, and that led to the War of the Last Alliance, in which Sauron was finally defeated. Isildur took the ring, but was betrayed by it. Now," his voice faded off.

"Now what?" I asked, intrigued by the story.

"I can not say."

"And why is that?"

He sighed to himself and I stopped there. Time seemed to pass slowly- even though it had always gone fast. Elladan and Elrohir had left on another of their journeys and did not come back, yet. Arwen came home a month later that year- on the first day of season of Quellë.

"Has Estel arrived yet?" she asked slowly and very calmly, with a straight face.

"Why would Estel be here?" I asked, laughing a bit, "He has not been in these parts for years."

"He should arrive soon," she said softly.

"Why?"

She took a deep breath, "Do you promise not to tell anybody at all?"

"Yes, yes, of course- I shan't tell anyone if it is your wish."

She glanced around before whispering, "I feel it, my fate has changed and my path is set." I glanced up at her, meeting with her silver eyes. I did not have to ask- I understood, she had made the choice of Lúthien. I did not know what to say.

"That is good," I said, unsure of my words, "What of his visiting?"

She smiled softly, "It is a secret."

"You can trust me- I shan't tell."

"He is coming from the east, with Periannath, and the one ring."

"Periannath? I have never- I thought they were imaginary creatures!"

She smiled softly again, "I suppose they are not."

"Are you saying something is to happen?"

"Yes, something is going to happen. There is to be a great meeting- a council, one might call. It will be of all the free peoples of Middle- Earth," she said softly, looking sad again.

"They will speak of the ring, I suppose?"

She nodded gently, "The peoples should start arriving shortly."