Thanks for reviewing this story and "Elven Dúnedain".  I will try to write more of both of these stories.  Glad to hear you like them so much!

Please read, enjoy and review.

***

And so the parting of Faramir and Mithmír was bitter indeed that morning in Edoras.  When they returned from their ride all the others were assembled in the stables, awaiting them.  Kindly Aragorn had bidden them to ask no questions of the two friends; and Mithmír was grateful of it.  She dismounted easily from Faramir's mare, and went over to where Legolas stood by Brialvastor.  She smiled weakly at him.  'Good morning, Legolas,' she said plainly before swinging herself up into the saddle.  Legolas nimbly mounted his horse, Arod, whom he had been given by the Riders of Rohan and had grown incredibly close to.   He then drew Gimli up after him; and the dwarf looked fearfully at the ground, which must – Mithmír reflected – have seemed a long way away to a short, stocky dwarf.

'It's lucky you're such a horseman, elf,' he grumbled to Legolas, 'or Gimli should be walking home!  Are you sure this… thing is safe to sit on?'

'I shall lead you into no danger, friend,' replied Legolas with laughter in his voice.  He smiled at Mithmír, who in return grinned knowingly.  'But if you rode with Mithmír Rochiwen the danger should be less still, for even her name proclaims her as the most skilled of riders.'

Gimli "humphed" grumpily, but not kindly.  'I am sure she rides well, but she is a she, and no Elf or Ranger I'll ride behind unless I must.'  He grinned at her cheekily.

Legolas had not the time for a shocked reply before Mithmír laughed aloud.  'Master dwarf,' she chortled in mirth finally, 'stay riding behind Legolas Greenleaf, for he is no doubt better company for you than I.  I should not wish to carry another behind me anyhow – a great burden anyone should be to me, if I were forced to carry them beside me always.  Rather you ride with Legolas, thy close friend, am I may talk with you freely and at want, and so grow in the liking of you.'

'You are the bold, blunt one!'  Guffawed Gimli, before nearly falling over backwards as they began from the stables.  He righted himself quickly, holding firmly to the slim elven body before him, and muttering grumpily.

Legolas sharp blue eyes met with his lady's for barely a second as they rode out into the sunlight, but his lips managed to pass on enough words: 'would that your arms were about me, fairest of ladies'.  Mithmír blushed and looked away, only to see a thing that was so sad as to make her nearly weep.

Faramir, her brother, stood on the steps before the doors of Meduseld, one arm about his dearest Éowyn, the other raised in farewell.  His face was creased in great sadness, and his eyes spoke of the sorrow to which there was no remedy in Middle Earth: the grief of being parted from those you love the most.

***

'Tell me about your family, Legolas,' asked Mithmír.  They had been riding for only a few hours of their two-day trek, and already she had settled into the familiar rhythm of life in the saddle.  She had grown up to a fairly nomadic existence; and found this journey far easier than any of the hobbits or Gimli the dwarf.  The air was fresh, and she did not dislike autumn weather; and she was in the mood for talking.

Legolas looked at her askance, and wondered whether she could accept what he must now say.  She may not mind his close relationship with Gimli; but would she tolerate another…?  Legolas desired no other, man or woman, than her; but he was incredibly close to a few, and wanted no more than for her to accept that.

'My father is Thranduil, King of Mirkwood,' he replied in a voice as light as the wind, as bright as the sunlight and as flowing as Ulmo's waters.  'And my mother is a green-elf, called Tincuil by my people, which means "sparkling life".  It suits her well,' he smiled at Mithmír.  'She is a vibrant woman, still as full of life as the forests.  We wood-elves and Sindarin elves do not tire in soul as quickly as the Noldor; who have seen the light and ever pine for it.

'She is young by the measure of my people,' he continued, picturing her beloved face in his mind.  'Her hair is pale gold, almost white, and falls like a waterfall down her back, full way to her waist.  Her eyes are a bright green, unlike mine, the purest colour of high-spring leaves such as fell in Greenwood the Great in the days of old.'  Greenwood the Great was the old name of Mirkwood, and Mithmír knew this.  She nodded, intensely interested in her love's past and kin.  'Her skin is barely tinged by the sun; her features clearly chiseled, perfectly shaped, and make her appear as delicate and lovely as all Elves are.  But you should not be fooled by that and her age: her wisdom and maturity are as great and as deep as the roots of old trees.  Her laugh is the sound of water, her smile the opening of a niphredil flower at dawn.'  He grinned at Mithmír.  'I love my naneth [mother],' he said unashamedly, shrugging.  'She is wonderful indeed to me, for she gave me life first and gives me love still and always.'

'I envy your relationship with her,' Mithmír replied in a choked voice, narrowing her eyes to look up and judge how far the sun was across the sky so she didn't have to look at him.  'My mother, Lómwing, is a wonderful woman; but I fear that I never took the time to get to know her; and now I regret it for that time shall never be here.'

'I'm sorry,' Legolas said softly, trying to catch her eye.

'Please go on,' continued Mithmír.  'Do you have any brothers or sisters?'

'Yes,' Legolas answered.  Here was the part he had been dreading.  'I have one older brother, called Calenhir, which is "green lord".  He looks not too different from I, but his face is bolder and more passionate in all emotions, and his eyes as green as our mother's.'  Legolas smiled brightly.  The thought of his brother was dear to him.  'He is adventurous and funny, outgoing and lively.  He is playful and a good friend always.  I am very close to him indeed, and he is always there for me, as I am always there for him.  We have been apart for too long; ever since I left for the Council of Elrond.'

'You speak of him as if you fear for me to hear of him,' said Mithmír questioningly, arching one eyebrow.  'What do you think I will mind about it?  He is your brother.  You obviously love him dearly; but you are an affectionate soul – don't I know it –' she winked 'and it's natural to feel for your brother.'

'I fear that when you meet him,' admitted Legolas, 'you shall be shocked by just how close we are.'  He waved away her questions, and Gimli shouted for him to hold on to the thing!  'No more than is natural, maybe, but we show it more than most.'  He blushed a little.  'Some Men find it odd to see two brothers embracing.'

Mithmír almost laughed out loud.  'Do you think your relationship with your brother will bother me?'  She chuckled.  'You worry too much, Legolas Greenleaf.  You may be as close to this Calenhir as you wish, and I shall not mind.  I shall not be jealous to see you embrace your brother or give him a chaste kiss on the cheek in greeting, I am not that unreasonable.  Would that I had a sibling to be so close to; but...'  She said no more, and had Legolas been close to her he would have seen a terrible shadow of pain pass over her eyes.

'Are you sure?'  He asked.  'You shall tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, of course?'  His heart rose.  Most Men and even a few Elves found the close relationship between the two brothers disconcerting.  They seemed unable to picture a purely platonic relationship between the brothers Calenhir and Legolas: if they embraced or chose to be together more than most siblings did, there must be more than a brotherly relationship going on, or so outsiders reasoned.  He was so glad that Mithmír seemed to be free of those untrue prejudices…

'Of course it won't, nín meleth [my love],' said Mithmír.  Honestly, she thought, he worries far too much about how I see things.  'I don't see how it could bother anyone, let alone me.  I love you and you may be as close to Calenhir as you want to –and I, for one, won't stop you or mind.'  She laughed.  'I'm amazed that you think I could.  No offence meant, Legolas, but it is a silly thing to worry about.'

His fears abated, Legolas smiled happily.  'Then I shall cease to worry,' he said gratefully.  'You are so accepting, Mithmír.  You cannot know how thankful I am…'

'There is nothing to thank me for,' said Mithmír plainly, her tone intending to suggest a change in subject.  'Now then, tell me of your home in Mirkwood…'

'Gladly!'

***

More is told of Legolas and Calenhir later.  They are very close as you will see, but the love between them is nothing more than an incredibly strong brotherly bond.  I also intend to write a short story on Mithmír's early family life; in which her pain to talk on her own lack of siblings is explained.

Hope you enjoyed it and please review!