Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any recognizable characters
and/or places thereof
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long; I shall try to do better in the future.
Littlesaiyangirl: Don't worry; Arwen will either repent or get her comeuppance. I'm not sure which, but one way or the other…
Blue Jeans Baby: Don't hate her, she can't help being the character of an angst author! Haha.
Musicgrl: It's that obvious? I pretty much am that way--like Addaliel, rather depressed and silent. Babbling is just fine with me! Ah, 'Loving the Wind', do you like that one? It's only got another chapter or two to go.
Pilot3001: What's confusing you? Maybe I could clarify.
Galorin: Well, Arwen was aiming for complete ruin. Thanks!
*****
Addaliel's Perspective
*****
I rode as many hours as my horse could take, heading straight for Imladris, thinking of nothing but my family--my brothers and my father. A great sense of guilt rose in me as my home came closer and closer, and I began to wonder if what I was doing was quite correct. All my life, though I often did not speak, I tried to improve things for the others. I tried to make them happy; Elladan, Elrohir, Ada. . .Arwen, too, though now I held some dislike for her in my heart. Yet what tragedy had befallen us that it was my extreme failure that I had become so absorbed in my self that I had failed to realize and attend the pains of my family. The thought of this consumed me, and it was by luck alone that on the day I was near ready to turn away, I entered the valley of the Elves.
My heart sang to see those woods again, to smell the scent of the oak trees, so different from the mallorns. Many days I with my brothers and sister would climb in the branches of those trees and look down upon the world, watching adults go about their daily business as we basked in lethargy, shedding tunics as the heat grew, bringing with us cloaks as it faded, but never failing to find a seat and watch the world, as removed, though it were a text and we simply readers. The flowers that grew in the grass we would delight in equally so, though not as often, and pluck carefully to press between the pages of our father's books. Small powdery blue and violet blossoms we would prolong in beauty, savouring every glance and peek at them until at last they would be placed carelessly and crushed, or tossed away by an adult not understanding quite what they were to us. In vivacity a flower pressed is never equal to a flower growing, but this never hindered our pleasures. Even in the grass we found wonders, trying as we might to imitate Elladan's shrill whistle with a blade between his thumbs, only to make the sounds of oliphaunts or rather more rude noises, to the great amusement of our elder brothers--Arwen and I, of course, for Elrohir claimed no need of grass-music. Again with my sister only would I thread the delicate flowers, bedecking our heads with chains of daisies, the blossom of many hours' work which in mere seconds would come easily undone, and be but scattered blooms. Our forbidden pleasures were only the sweeter--stolen from the between white petals the thin strands of plant fibre, saturated with a thick dew tasting of the sweet honey we rarely imbibed, and the plump grasses wielding such a sour flavour when the right pressure was applied, the stalks placed between our lips and our eyes ever searching for an elder. Such days were spent in the woods, our playroom, when we were children.
I reached the stables, and was loath to enter and for even a moment bereft myself of the smells and memories of my childhood, but as always there were things to do, and I was no longer young. Heavy was my heart, weighed down by the unhappy knowledge that the days of carefree romps and unrecognized euphoria had gone and would never return, as I hung my tack and bridle and groomed my horse. I was putting away a few things when I heard voices from within the stables, and I froze, my heart cased in ice as a sweat broke out over my brow and my breath came in laboured gasps. My vision swam, and I slammed my hand against the wall to steady myself, the other hand clutching my throat, as though this would force the air through. The words and tones of the speakers registered at long last, and I calmed a bit.
"Whose horse is this?" one voice was asking. I knew that voice, but could not put a name to it, nor a face.
"I do not know; who in Imladris plays the violin?" Ah, here I knew who spoke, for it was Elladan my brother. "Lady Galadriel, my mother's mother, plays the instrument, but I doubt that she is here and I doubt that she would have so small a--oh!" Here he gasped, and there was a sound as though he had clasped his hands to his mouth. I heard no more, for no more was said and my knees gave out then, my being awash in a cold sweat. "Dell!" Elladan was there, and he held me, kneeling beside me and wrapping me in his arms. I curled in to him, frightened and shaking. "It is all right, Dell. Don't cry, please, every thing is all right," he told me. I nodded. "This is a terrible welcome home," he said as he helped me to my feet. "Oh, Addaliel, you are welcome, and it is so good you have come!"
The way Elladan hugged me then, I knew he expected me to work some form of miracle I could not possibly hope to conceive. Nevertheless, it was my hope that despite this they would love me still, for I dearly loved them. For a moment my mind rested in silence, and enjoyed the feeling of a brother's loving embrace.
Elladan and I walked up to the house together, after excusing ourselves from the presence of Glorfindel--it had been his voice I could not identify. It was a sunny day and Elladan slung my bag over his shoulder like a true gentleman, though he teased me much as we walked. I would not let him hold my violin, and he understood. "I am so glad for you, Dell," Elladan said. I gave him a questioning look, and he added, "You have found your voice, your. . .habit. People like us, we are not quite. . .not quite whole inside, I think. We need something outside to make us complete. For so long you thrived on trying to please the rest of us, you forgot about yourself. Lady Galadriel, much as I may dislike her, has helped you, Dell. Please do not hate me for saying it."
Hate him? I could not, for it was truth. Galadriel and Celeborn had taught me much over the years, and I realized that I did feel much happier now. With a smile at my brother, I began to run. Elladan knew I was challenging him to a race, and he indulged me. This must be so, for while Elladan enjoyed races he always won them. This race I won, though Elladan came up behind me afterwards, and swung me into the air as only brothers know how. I laughed, the silent laugh to which I had come accustomed. "Here, let's get you cleaned up, Addaliel, then you must visit Adar. I have a quite comical idea. . ."
*****
Elrond's Perspective
*****
Estel was in my study at the time, his mind bent to lessons he could not seem to comprehend. I sat at my desk, opposite Estel, and though I also was working it was all I could do to glance at him every few minutes. My heart had changed so since he first came to Imladris, even in the past few weeks I had grown much fonder of the boy, beginning to view him even as my own child. As I was working, I did not notice that Elladan had entered until he shut the door behind him, rather loudly.
"Good morrow, Estel, good morrow, Adar!" said Elladan with cheerful nods.
"Elladan, is there a reason for this visit?" I asked.
"Sure there is, Adar! Estel is the reason, look at the poor boy, cooped up inside all day. What he needs is some fresh air." With this Elladan crossed to the window and threw it open.
"I am just fine, Elladan," Estel said. "But I have work to do!"
"Work, work, work; but you are a child, Estel!" Elladan replied, leaning out the window as estel turned back to his studies. "You need to live a little, baby brother! And Adar--do you know what you need, Adar?"
"No, Elladan," I asked without turning to face him. His antics were becoming rather annoying.
"This," he said. I turned, angry, only to see the Elladan had pulled through the window Addaliel. She was standing beside him, grinning, as Elrohir scrambled through the window after her. For a moment I could do nothing. I knew tears were brimming in my eyes but I did not care. When the shock of seeing her again wore off and at last I could act, I flew from my seat in such a flutter of emotion as I had not felt in years and held my daughter as I had not in so much time.
*****
Addaliel's Perspective
*****
I never knew that I mattered so much to Ada. In point of fact, I was partially afraid he would be angry with me. His reaction to seeing me again dispelled that illusion. He hugged me and kissed my face all over, near tears all the while, saying words I did not hear, saying that he was so happy to see me again, so happy…In truth, he was hurting me, holding me so tightly. I allowed him. This had been Elladan's miracle. Without knowing it, I had worked the magic my brother had hoped for simply with my presence. And oh, to know that I was loved! After so long a time, with ice creeping steadily across my heart, to feel my father's embrace and know he loved me. . .That was why I let Ada hurt me. He did not know what he was doing, it was only happiness--a foreign and all-consuming thing.
*****
TBC
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long; I shall try to do better in the future.
Littlesaiyangirl: Don't worry; Arwen will either repent or get her comeuppance. I'm not sure which, but one way or the other…
Blue Jeans Baby: Don't hate her, she can't help being the character of an angst author! Haha.
Musicgrl: It's that obvious? I pretty much am that way--like Addaliel, rather depressed and silent. Babbling is just fine with me! Ah, 'Loving the Wind', do you like that one? It's only got another chapter or two to go.
Pilot3001: What's confusing you? Maybe I could clarify.
Galorin: Well, Arwen was aiming for complete ruin. Thanks!
*****
Addaliel's Perspective
*****
I rode as many hours as my horse could take, heading straight for Imladris, thinking of nothing but my family--my brothers and my father. A great sense of guilt rose in me as my home came closer and closer, and I began to wonder if what I was doing was quite correct. All my life, though I often did not speak, I tried to improve things for the others. I tried to make them happy; Elladan, Elrohir, Ada. . .Arwen, too, though now I held some dislike for her in my heart. Yet what tragedy had befallen us that it was my extreme failure that I had become so absorbed in my self that I had failed to realize and attend the pains of my family. The thought of this consumed me, and it was by luck alone that on the day I was near ready to turn away, I entered the valley of the Elves.
My heart sang to see those woods again, to smell the scent of the oak trees, so different from the mallorns. Many days I with my brothers and sister would climb in the branches of those trees and look down upon the world, watching adults go about their daily business as we basked in lethargy, shedding tunics as the heat grew, bringing with us cloaks as it faded, but never failing to find a seat and watch the world, as removed, though it were a text and we simply readers. The flowers that grew in the grass we would delight in equally so, though not as often, and pluck carefully to press between the pages of our father's books. Small powdery blue and violet blossoms we would prolong in beauty, savouring every glance and peek at them until at last they would be placed carelessly and crushed, or tossed away by an adult not understanding quite what they were to us. In vivacity a flower pressed is never equal to a flower growing, but this never hindered our pleasures. Even in the grass we found wonders, trying as we might to imitate Elladan's shrill whistle with a blade between his thumbs, only to make the sounds of oliphaunts or rather more rude noises, to the great amusement of our elder brothers--Arwen and I, of course, for Elrohir claimed no need of grass-music. Again with my sister only would I thread the delicate flowers, bedecking our heads with chains of daisies, the blossom of many hours' work which in mere seconds would come easily undone, and be but scattered blooms. Our forbidden pleasures were only the sweeter--stolen from the between white petals the thin strands of plant fibre, saturated with a thick dew tasting of the sweet honey we rarely imbibed, and the plump grasses wielding such a sour flavour when the right pressure was applied, the stalks placed between our lips and our eyes ever searching for an elder. Such days were spent in the woods, our playroom, when we were children.
I reached the stables, and was loath to enter and for even a moment bereft myself of the smells and memories of my childhood, but as always there were things to do, and I was no longer young. Heavy was my heart, weighed down by the unhappy knowledge that the days of carefree romps and unrecognized euphoria had gone and would never return, as I hung my tack and bridle and groomed my horse. I was putting away a few things when I heard voices from within the stables, and I froze, my heart cased in ice as a sweat broke out over my brow and my breath came in laboured gasps. My vision swam, and I slammed my hand against the wall to steady myself, the other hand clutching my throat, as though this would force the air through. The words and tones of the speakers registered at long last, and I calmed a bit.
"Whose horse is this?" one voice was asking. I knew that voice, but could not put a name to it, nor a face.
"I do not know; who in Imladris plays the violin?" Ah, here I knew who spoke, for it was Elladan my brother. "Lady Galadriel, my mother's mother, plays the instrument, but I doubt that she is here and I doubt that she would have so small a--oh!" Here he gasped, and there was a sound as though he had clasped his hands to his mouth. I heard no more, for no more was said and my knees gave out then, my being awash in a cold sweat. "Dell!" Elladan was there, and he held me, kneeling beside me and wrapping me in his arms. I curled in to him, frightened and shaking. "It is all right, Dell. Don't cry, please, every thing is all right," he told me. I nodded. "This is a terrible welcome home," he said as he helped me to my feet. "Oh, Addaliel, you are welcome, and it is so good you have come!"
The way Elladan hugged me then, I knew he expected me to work some form of miracle I could not possibly hope to conceive. Nevertheless, it was my hope that despite this they would love me still, for I dearly loved them. For a moment my mind rested in silence, and enjoyed the feeling of a brother's loving embrace.
Elladan and I walked up to the house together, after excusing ourselves from the presence of Glorfindel--it had been his voice I could not identify. It was a sunny day and Elladan slung my bag over his shoulder like a true gentleman, though he teased me much as we walked. I would not let him hold my violin, and he understood. "I am so glad for you, Dell," Elladan said. I gave him a questioning look, and he added, "You have found your voice, your. . .habit. People like us, we are not quite. . .not quite whole inside, I think. We need something outside to make us complete. For so long you thrived on trying to please the rest of us, you forgot about yourself. Lady Galadriel, much as I may dislike her, has helped you, Dell. Please do not hate me for saying it."
Hate him? I could not, for it was truth. Galadriel and Celeborn had taught me much over the years, and I realized that I did feel much happier now. With a smile at my brother, I began to run. Elladan knew I was challenging him to a race, and he indulged me. This must be so, for while Elladan enjoyed races he always won them. This race I won, though Elladan came up behind me afterwards, and swung me into the air as only brothers know how. I laughed, the silent laugh to which I had come accustomed. "Here, let's get you cleaned up, Addaliel, then you must visit Adar. I have a quite comical idea. . ."
*****
Elrond's Perspective
*****
Estel was in my study at the time, his mind bent to lessons he could not seem to comprehend. I sat at my desk, opposite Estel, and though I also was working it was all I could do to glance at him every few minutes. My heart had changed so since he first came to Imladris, even in the past few weeks I had grown much fonder of the boy, beginning to view him even as my own child. As I was working, I did not notice that Elladan had entered until he shut the door behind him, rather loudly.
"Good morrow, Estel, good morrow, Adar!" said Elladan with cheerful nods.
"Elladan, is there a reason for this visit?" I asked.
"Sure there is, Adar! Estel is the reason, look at the poor boy, cooped up inside all day. What he needs is some fresh air." With this Elladan crossed to the window and threw it open.
"I am just fine, Elladan," Estel said. "But I have work to do!"
"Work, work, work; but you are a child, Estel!" Elladan replied, leaning out the window as estel turned back to his studies. "You need to live a little, baby brother! And Adar--do you know what you need, Adar?"
"No, Elladan," I asked without turning to face him. His antics were becoming rather annoying.
"This," he said. I turned, angry, only to see the Elladan had pulled through the window Addaliel. She was standing beside him, grinning, as Elrohir scrambled through the window after her. For a moment I could do nothing. I knew tears were brimming in my eyes but I did not care. When the shock of seeing her again wore off and at last I could act, I flew from my seat in such a flutter of emotion as I had not felt in years and held my daughter as I had not in so much time.
*****
Addaliel's Perspective
*****
I never knew that I mattered so much to Ada. In point of fact, I was partially afraid he would be angry with me. His reaction to seeing me again dispelled that illusion. He hugged me and kissed my face all over, near tears all the while, saying words I did not hear, saying that he was so happy to see me again, so happy…In truth, he was hurting me, holding me so tightly. I allowed him. This had been Elladan's miracle. Without knowing it, I had worked the magic my brother had hoped for simply with my presence. And oh, to know that I was loved! After so long a time, with ice creeping steadily across my heart, to feel my father's embrace and know he loved me. . .That was why I let Ada hurt me. He did not know what he was doing, it was only happiness--a foreign and all-consuming thing.
*****
TBC
