Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, places, events, and concepts are the property of the J.R.R. Tolkien Estate.

Hey all! Looky, looky—an update! This has certainly taken me long enough to finish, but it is here. Much thanks to all of you who continue to read even though the updates have been few and far between lately. Responses to your reviews are below the chapter.

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Chapter 8~*~Alternatives

There were not a lot of things that you could do when forced to sit cross-legged in the grass, with your hands folded neatly in your lap. You could look for pictures in the clouds floating across the sky, or try to spot birds nesting in the trees. If you were truly, truly bored, you could wiggle each laced finger in its turn, playing pretend that it was a little person. You might try to pick green blades of grass with your smallest fingers, or, as was most common, you could whisper-whisper very quietly to the person sitting next to you.

"I have a bow now," Legolas informed Arasil in a low voice, excited to see what the other's response might be. Arasil had had a bow for ever and ever, and there was something very satisfying about knowing that they were equal now.

"Good!" Arasil responded cheerily enough, turning his gaze from Master Rossion, who was speaking with somebody's worried Nana at the edge of the clearing, to Legolas. It was certainly about time.

"Oh!" there was a little exclamation to Legolas' right, and he turned to see a rather beaming Cúran, "I'll teach you, Legolas!"

Arasil sighed heavily, "You haven't even got a bow of your own yet."

"My brother is going to teach me," Legolas smiled in spite of a small spark of irritation, "He's going to come and get me."

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Aldandil walked unhurried down the hallway, his younger brother's bow in hand. The weapon had been deposited into his care soon after breakfast, with several warnings to take good care of it. The older prince smiled and shook his head, running a thumb along the pale wood of the upper limb. He had really not expected Legolas to be so taken with it.

"That weapon is a bit small for you, is it not?"

"Only a bit," Aldandil returned, grinning at Nimaron. He was not entirely sure if the Imladris healer meant to joke or not---it was rather hard to tell at times. He decided to humor him, "I use it to shoot very small game."

Nimaron shook his head, continuing on his way down the hall, "Be sure to bring your brother home in one piece."

"Nim," Aldandil called, causing the healer to pause and look over his shoulder, "Your sister—she is close in age to you?"

"Incredibly so," Nimaron nodded, wondering if there was a reason for the question, "There is a space of only twelve years between us."

"And she is getting married," Aldandil stated, leaning against the wall. The healer had gotten the better of him the evening before, but the conversation had also raised a lot of questions in his mind. Questions about timing and opportunies and…oh, for the life of him…lots of suddenly pestering little things. Questions Nimaron might just be able to answer. He tilted his head, taking in the healer's slightly impatient look, "Did you ever consider marriage yourself?"

"Once," Nimaron held up a single finger, "Why is this suddenly important to you?"

"Does it get harder as you get older?" Aldandil responded with another question, "To commit yourself to someone?"

Nimaron folded his arms over his chest, understanding setting in, "You've considered it yourself, haven't you? And then something happened to upset your plans, and everything suddenly became a lot more complicated. Yes, that happens. But does it get more difficult to commit yourself?" He nodded slowly, looking at the floor before meeting the younger Elf's eyes again, "Yes. Because there are more questions that arise; because it is not a simple question of fostering a relationship in love anymore. But you needn't worry yourself---the time will come if it is meant to, and I think you will know then. You did not worry about such things until yesterday evening, and you need not worry about them again until you meet someone."

Aldandil wondered how a healer who had never bound himself to anyone, who teetered on the edge of obsessive details at moments, could make sense of such a large issue...though several questions were still unanswered. He watched Nimaron smile briefly before continuing down the hall again, then straightened, "Nim?"

"Yes?" Nimaron raised an eyebrow, beginning to wonder if he would ever get to the infirmary.

"Do you still care for her?"

Nimaron sighed, glancing towards the ceiling, "Maybe. But you need not trouble yourself over that matter either."

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It was not fair.

Legolas wriggled a bit, wishing that Arasil's grip would loosen for just half a moment. The other Elfling held him firmly by the shoulders, as Master Rossion's new game had dictated. It wasn't a very fun game. Legolas paused in his struggling to glance around a little. Everyone else was still racing about, occasionally getting caught and then wrenching themselves free.

He was stuck. Undeniably stuck. Arasil had caught him and now he was stuck.

He had tried running, and prying at Arasil's fingers hadn't done much good. He could stomp on Arasil's feet, or bite him…but that wasn't allowed. Legolas felt Arasil's grip loosen and pulled a shoulder forward, only to have the other child push down hard again.

"Just let me go," Legolas whined, frustration getting the better of him. He had tried everything. Arasil was just too strong and he was just too small.

"I can't," Arasil sighed, a little exasperated. It wasn't his fault that Legolas couldn't get away. It had been a stupid idea to catch him in the first place, for now he was stuck holding him in place while everyone else ran about. Where was that Cúran when you needed him? If Cúran would catch him then perhaps he would lose his grip on Legolas.  "Master Rossion said no letting people go. That's the rule. Just wiggle your shoulders a lot and then run."

"I tried that!" Legolas responded, struggling slightly before giving up. He was tired of this. It was a stupid game and he wanted to go home.

"Don't cry," Arasil shook the other child a little as Legolas started to rub at his eyes, his voice thin. He really did not want Legolas to cry. He could feel his own breathing quicken as a little sniffle escaped the other Elfling. If he let Legolas go, he would break the rule; but if he didn't he would be responsible for making someone else sob. Arasil drew in a deep breath, rubbing one foot anxiously on the ground. Maybe he would just have to cry himself.

Rossion's ears caught another sniffle, and he turned from two arguing children to see the upset pair. Whatever was going on? The game was supposed to be a rather fun way to illustrate to his students that there were simpler ways to get away than struggling furiously, and here was one of them swiping at tears and another close to them.

"Legolas." Rossion strode over and knelt down in front of the Elfling. He had not anticipated something like this happening today. The crying was rather unnerving, but perhaps now would be a most opportune time to teach the child the alternative way to release himself, "How are you going to get away?"

"I don't know," Legolas moaned. "I can't go this way," he tried to step forward, then to the right and then left, "Or this way, or this way." Why was Master Rossion making him explain this? Why couldn't he just tell Arasil to let him go?

Rossion nodded slowly, restraining the urge to smear away the child's tears, "Have you tried going down?"

"Down?" Legolas wiped a hand across his face, staring at the training instructor.

"Yes, down," Rossion started to get up, "Duck down quickly and then run."

Legolas stood still for a moment, wondering how that would work, then took a quick glance at Arasil before testing Master Rossion's suggestion. Arasil's fingers slipped from his shoulders and he managed to dash away before the other Elfling could catch him again.

"It worked!" he hopped over to Master Rossion, a little surprised.

Rossion nodded, fishing a square of cloth from his pocket for the Elfling to wipe his eyes with, "Of course it did."

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Aldandil settled himself against a large oak, his bow laid causally across his knees, the quiver nearby on the ground. A short distance away he could see his brother trying to perfect an archer's stance. The Elfling peered down at his feet, twisting them until he was satisfied that they were pointing in the correct direction. He then focused his attention on holding his small bow, glancing over his shoulder for a look of approval or otherwise.

"Very good," Aldandil smiled absently, his fingers idly tracing a long smooth groove in the lower limb of his own bow. For the most part, the past half hour with Legolas had been delightfully rewarding. It had not taken long to affirm that Legolas already knew the different parts of the weapon; that he knew well enough from casually watching others that it had to be unstrung and wiped off after use, checked for cracks and other signs of wear. After that he had carefully watched Aldandil string both their bows, agreeing somewhat disappointedly that that task could be taught at another time. Aldandil grinned to himself, remembering what had come next. He had stood with his own bow, demonstrating the simplest stance to shoot from. Instead heaving disinterested sighs, Legolas had attempted to copy him perfectly. This might just be as fun as he had anticipated.

~*~

"Pull harder," Aldandil knelt on the ground to better see the angle of his younger brother's arm, "The further you pull, the further an arrow will fly."

Legolas pressed his lips together, his small fingers already hurting where the bowstring was digging into them. He glanced to his brother, noting that Aldan still wore an expectant expression. The Elfling pulled a bit harder, feeling his elbows and wrists wobbling. That was not supposed to happen. "It won't go any further," he held his position, hoping that Aldan would decide it was satisfactory.

"It will in time," Aldandil responded, critically surveying his brother's stance before getting up. His feet were placed correctly, and with practice he would learn to relax easily enough. What bothered Aldandil though was Legolas' incredibly short draw. He hadn't strung the small bow that tightly, had he?  He ruffled Legolas' hair as the Elfling relaxed his hold, "I think we've done enough for one day."

"I want to shoot arrows though!" Legolas placed himself in front of his brother, staring up into Aldan's face.

"I haven't got your arrows with me," Aldandil held up his hands, "And my arrows would be far too big for your bow." He shouldered his own bow, putting out a hand for the child to take, "Maybe you could try them after reading with Naneth. She'll be looking for you, you know."

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Thilómë sat with her younger son on a bench in the sitting room, listening to him as he attempted to sound out a longer word. After a prompt he continued on, his voice slowly becoming softer and softer, and soon his small head was against her arm.

"…and…the…the…" Legolas ran his finger under the letters, blinking in an effort to make them appear clearer.

"I'll finish this part," Thilómë offered, dragging a throw off the back of the bench to cover her little one with, "You must have had a very big day, glî." It did not seem quite fair that Master Rossion and Aldandil should wear Legolas out just in time for his lessons with her. She tucked the blanket over his shoulder, "I think it might be a good idea to take a little rest as soon as we are done here."

"Maybe," Legolas snuggled closer to his mother, waiting a moment for the little nod that meant she was listening, "I want to try my arrows though." He paused, still feeling the burning in his fingers from the bowstring, "I like it a lot, Nana, but it hurts."

"I know," Thilómë took the little hand extended to her, placing exaggerated kisses on the pink marks. She received an irritated but amused look from her son as he wrinkled his nose at the gesture. "You will not notice the hurt as much after awhile. It is that way with a lot of things, glî."

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Thranduil looked down at his younger son hurrying beside him, met with a large grin from the child. Legolas attempted to keep his small bow and five matching arrows all in one hand, his other hand surrounded by his father's strong fingers. The king had been surprised when the Elfling had begged to be taken along to his meeting in the gardens, explaining that he could practice while his father talked with an advisor in the summerhouse.

Legolas hurried along, glad that Ada had agreed to take him to the gardens to try the arrows. Ada wouldn't be able to watch or tell him if he was doing everything correctly or not, but at least he would get a chance to practice.

"Good afternoon, Caladir," Thranduil greeted his advisor, taking a seat across from him in the airy gazebo in one garden before turning his attention to Legolas. "I will be right here," he told the Elfling, then pointed to the small area directly in his vision, "You may practice right there, and you must stay in sight. If you like, you may aim at that tree. Only that that one." He pointed to an ancient oak, the shell of its long ago existence now covered in the vines of small flowers. There had been no life in it for quite some time now, but it still stood, a decent enough target for an Elfling. "Understand?"

"Yes, Ada," Legolas nodded, and then hurried towards the open area of the garden, pushing the practice arrows into the ground as he had seen many training Elves do.

After awhile Caladir caught his king grinning as he looked out the wide windows to where his little son was practicing, and turned to see for himself. He watched the Elfling repeat his careful motions a few times, occasionally pausing to examine the bark of a tree or something in the deep grass.

Caladir's brow wrinkled as he watched the Elfling fumble to fit another arrow, "His draw is unusually short, even for a child."

Thranduil's eyes slid to his advisor for a moment before he went back to watching his son scramble to pick up the small arrows, which had not traveled very far, "Everyone's draw strengthens in time, and he only just picked up the bow today."

"Even so, it will take a very long time with that one," Caladir commented casually, returning to the papers in front of himself to spread out a large map. He checked a paper for reference, then attempted to pinpoint a location. "He will be shooting the close targets for years most likely."

 Thranduil drew in a deep breath, his eyes following Legolas as the Elfling strained to pull back further on the bowstring before releasing and sticking a few abused fingers into his mouth. His son---both his sons---had been so incredibly eager for this, and it would not do to tell Legolas to wait until his body strengthened further to take up the bow again. The king turned the map around in order to look at it himself, and then responded just as casually, "True, he may. But it will give him plenty of time to perfect his aim."

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RESPONSES TO REVIEWERS

*daw the minstrel: I'm glad you enjoyed the bow descriptions---the weapons used in Peter Jackson's movies are absolutely beautiful, and I wanted to throw a little of that in…something tells me Thranduil's sons wouldn't be running around with twigs and strings. *g*

*Purplesmackers: Well, the next chapter is finally, finally here. *g* I'm glad you enjoyed the last one---and happy to know that you're able to see that Legolas is very much a normal little kid.

*Nilmandra: Glad to hear that you enjoyed all the results from Nim's letter---I couldn't pass it up. Seeing as Legolas eventually becomes quite the archer, it seemed appropriate for him to adore that new bow. *g*

*Nikki: When I was small my favorite gifts always had to be within sight from the bed. Glad you enjoy Legolas' occasional adventures. *g*

*Dragon-of-the-north: Glad you enjoyed Nim's musings on teatime and the description of the stillroom---once in awhile I like readers to be able to picture themselves in a certain spot.  

Glad to see you caught the twist with Nimaron and Morthiniel's names. *g* Their mother was not in the best of moods when she named her daughter.

Legolas' conversation was fun to write---I'm glad you liked it. 'Poor Aldandil' shall have to choose a better spy next time!

I'm glad you like my Thranduil as well…there is a lot going on inside his head, I think.

I don't think Nimaron realizes how amusing he is at times, though he did have something of a moment in this chapter, I suppose. As for Nim coming home with a lovesick smile and all, it would take a lot of work…he is (unfortunately) something of a workaholic, I think.

The bow is a big step for Legolas---as you mentioned, it is a symbol of transition, in way.

Thank you for your wonderful review---I absolutely love getting them! Good luck with your upcoming exam!

*Nina: Glad to hear you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for reading. *g*

*Lutris: I'm so happy you liked the results of Nim's letter. Aldandil was rather embarrassed, but now he has quite the opportunity to plague that poor healer with questions.

*SperryDee: Elbow-biter? As in having to stick your elbow in your mouth to keep from laughing (sounds difficult!)? Glad you liked it!

*StrangeBlaze: Hey there! Legolas' training has started somewhat…stressfully. He's managing to have an all right time though. *g*

I'm glad to hear that you enjoy the moments between Thranduil and Thilómë---there are precious few in fic-land, and I do like throwing one in every here and there.

*Legolas4me: Well, you've seen Legolas' training begin….he will prove himself soon enough. He's having a pretty good time with that little bow.

*Lisette: Thank you for your nice comment! Thranduil is fun, but something of a challenge to write…he can't be horribly gushy, but I didn't want to portray a completely stoic Elven-king either. *g* Glad to hear you like Aldandil too.

*Dragon Confused: Glad to see that you realized Legolas was rather preoccupied when talking with Aldandil---relaying information about some lady is not all that interesting for a small Elfling (as related to pillow forts, of course).

I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter---hope this one was worth the wait!

*cagedphoenix: New name! Plenty of us have got them now!

Aldandil is taking advantage of his position as big brother…for surely Ilúvatar didn't gift his parents with that little Elfling just because He felt like it!

*Dot: Luckily for Aldandil, he has realized that no, Nim is not marrying his own sister. Though now the young Elf is musing over who he did consider marrying….

When I decided to write the bow bit, I decided that Legolas would be very excited about it. *g* If you've watched the Extended Version of FOTR, he seems very much in awe over that bow Celeborn and Galadriel give to him.  

*Kaiyoz: Hi there! I'm glad you found my little series! Cúran wasn't in this chapter much, but he'll be back. *g* I am a slow updater at this point, but I hope you were able to find the new chapter!

*Elberethia: Thank you for checking out so much of my work. *beams* This fic will continue until it's finished, though I will be updating slowly due to school and all.

Legolas had some interaction with Arasil this time around, but it wasn't exactly fun. I'm going to have to write some fun times sooner or later.

*bratprincess: Glad you like the stories! Thanks for your review and comments---it's good to know you're reading!

*LOTRFaith: Hey---great to hear from you again! Glad to hear that you're enjoying yourself again!

*Anyone else—thank you for reading! Do let me know what you think once in awhile—I love to know you're out there!

Thank you again to everyone who has read and reviewed these last few chapters—it is so very good to know that you're all still keeping up with this little story! --A