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

Author's Notes: Well…I have finally updated again. I am currently dividing my free time between several different stories, so I apologize that updates continue to be so slow. Those of you who like embarrassingly long chapters may hop up and down right about now. If you would like to be emailed when there is an update (whether on only this story or on any story) please let me know.

Since this story has taken a few not-so-happy turns, I've started a more light-hearted story taking place a year from this one. A Rivendell Regatta, Mirkwood Style will stay happy for the most part, and at one point or another may contain a few sopping wet Elves.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, there is also a fairly angst-y story centered on Nimaron (Singing Songs). Consider it a tale of what he did after his work with Legolas and his family was over.

Thank you to everyone who has continued to read & review---I love hearing from each of you, and your comments are what manage to keep me actually posting instead of just typing nonsense into my computer. *g* Responses to your reviews follow the chapter.

As always, comments and questions are welcome (more than welcome…)

--Aranel (aranels@hotmail.com)

~*~~*~~*~

Chapter 10~*~Misunderstandings

It was beginning to get dark. If Aldandil glanced towards the windows—and he did occasionally—he could see the hazy lines of night starting to spread over the sun-dipped hues of the sky. It would be a beautiful evening for walking outdoors, for after such a hot day the night would be balmy, and with no visible moon the stars would be especially bright.

Nimaron had left over an hour ago, having important things to do…things that seemed significantly more important than they had earlier in the day. Now his mother sat across from him, quiet, the evening meal recently over.

"Come," Thilómë rose from her place near her older son, putting a hand on his shoulder, "You should have something to eat."

"I should have spoken to her," Aldandil stood up, moving only because he knew his mother would prod him until he did.

Thilómë only nodded, leading the way out of the room. She had heard the facts of the story when Aldandil had asked to be excused from attending dinner, and it would not do to make any judgments now. When her son fell silent again she patted his shoulder slowly, continuing down the hall, "You can speak with her in a few days. Everything will be all right."

Would it? Aldandil stared at his mother for a short moment, not entirely sure why he was walking with her or how he felt about everything happening. Just as he was truly beginning to sort his feelings over Meril out, Nimaron had hesitantly informed him of something that had managed to mix him up again.

It was her. The ambassador had cancelled because his daughter had been burned, and her name, of course, was Meril.

~*~~*~~*~

Legolas waited impatiently as his mother braided his hair, peering around the room and picking things up off of the bathing room counter to look at. He stretched out his fingers to grasp a wooden bird whistle that had been left on the far end of the counter, trying not to move his head, which would make Nana pull.

"Hold still, glî," Thilómë finished weaving the silky blonde strands together, then tied the braid off. She prodded her son out into the main room, "There you go. Please go and tell Aldandil to come to breakfast."

"Did Vanima make the bread with the raisins?" Legolas grabbed the whistle, examining it as he headed out of the room.

Thilómë steered the Elfling towards the hallway, in a hurry to take care of her own hair before breakfast, "I do not know, Legolas. Tell your brother to come and eat." Her older son had become noticeably reserved and moody over the past few days, and she knew it was the result of the news about Meril. Hopefully a visit to the lady this afternoon would improve things. She started out into the hallway with Legolas, taking a moment to kiss her little one on the forehead, "I am going to walk to the dining hall with Ada, all right? I will see you when we get there."

Legolas nodded, making his way to Aldandil's room. He let himself in after his brother's call of "come in", leaning into the doorway, "Nana says to come and eat breakfast."

"All right," Aldandil glanced at his younger brother for a second, then smoothed the tunic he was wearing before heading out of the room.

Legolas walked alongside his brother, his attention on the whistle in his hands. Whoever had made it had shaped it like a cardinal, then used a reddish colored stain on the wood. "Aldan, do you think that if I practice very, very hard that I can beat Arasil?"

"Probably," Aldandil responded dully, his mind not very focused on archery or Elflings at the moment. He managed to add a little to what he had said, "Winning over someone else is not very important though. It is more important to practice so that you improve."

"He beat me though," Legolas slid a small hand into one of his brother's, surprised when Aldan didn't immediately pick him up or at least take his hand securely, "Did your friends beat you?"

Aldandil sighed, nearly missing the door to the dining hall, "Sometimes, Legolas." He held the door open for his brother, hoping that the Elfling would easily forget about losing the contest. He drew in a deep breath, going on tiredly, "Years from now it won't even matter. I don't remember very many contests."

Legolas made his way to his chair, watching carefully as Aldandil walked around the table to his place. The contest had mattered, at least a little, and Aldan, of all people, should have known that.

~*~~*~~*~

"Maybe we could practice after supper," Legolas followed his brother after they had been excused from the midday meal. Aldandil had announced that there would be no practice today because he had to visit someone. "It will still be light out."

Aldandil glanced back at the Elfling following him, already in a hurry to get to his visit with Meril. If it was not going to go well, he wanted it over right away, and if it was going to go well he wanted to have enough time to enjoy it. He sighed resignedly, "I really don't want to practice after supper. We will practice tomorrow, all right?" The older prince noticed his brother's crestfallen look and managed to give him a half-smile as he continued down the hall, "You'll have a nice afternoon with Naneth."

~*~~*~~*~

"Well, glî, what shall we do?" Thilómë smiled down at her younger son, watching as the little one wove a length of cord from the draperies over and under his fingers. It had been a few weeks since she had had more than an hour or so to spend with solely with Legolas, and that had usually been spent helping him with his reading. She had to admit that she was looking forward to this afternoon, to having a little extra time with one of her sons.

"I don't know," Legolas untangled the cord from his fingers, getting up to sit next to his mother. He snuggled close to her side, glad when she put an arm around his shoulders, "Nana, I don't think Aldan likes me very much."

"What makes you say that, Legolas?" Thilómë stared at her younger son wide-eyed. It seemed that more things had upset Legolas in the past month than ever before, "Your brother loves you more than you can imagine glî. You know that."

"I know, but I don't think he likes me anymore, Nana. He didn't care that Arasil beat me, and he got grumpy at me," Legolas burrowed closer to his mother, "And he doesn't want to practice with me either. That is our special thing."

Thilómë let the child crawl onto her lap, smoothing the hair that had come loose from his braid behind an ear, "Oh, dear, Legolas, it is not that Aldandil does not like you. He just got some very bad news about a friend of his, and it has made him rather upset. She got hurt, and today he went to visit with her. I think that you would get upset if something happened to one of your friends too. Your brother gets upset just like you do." She rocked her son slightly for a moment, then leaned to look at his small face, "So practice is something special that you do with Aldandil, is it? Maybe there is something special that I could do with you too, just for today."

~*~~*~~*~

Aldandil looked down at the flowers he carried. Naneth had shoved him off with the vase of bright yellow blossoms and daisies, telling him something about the importance of diplomatic relations and common kindnesses. He scrutinized the blossoms, hoping that they didn't symbolize or imply anything he might regret. Daisies…daisies were for friendship, weren't they?. Or was it innocence? If this was simply a well-wishing visit, then why hadn't Naneth come herself? Because, of course, he had been the one to express a wish to visit with Meril. Naneth had only assured him that it would be a nice thing to do.

 "Where are you headed, Aldandil?" Nimaron hurried down the hallway, garbed again in loose cotton garments instead of his long robes.

"I," Aldandil started, noting the metal basin the healer carried, filled with linen bandage rolls and jars of healing paste, "I wished to leave these for…for Lady Meril, to wish her a fast recovery."

"Oh," Nimaron nodded, "I am going there myself; come along."

"Would you give them to her?" Aldandil held out the vase.

Nimaron began striding down the hallway, glancing over his shoulder at Aldandil. If the prince had regretted not speaking to the young lady earlier, he was certainly not going to bar him from visiting with her now. Besides, now that she was feeling a little better, Lady Meril was proving to be a very…restless patient. "I think you ought to. I think she might appreciate it."

~*~~*~~*~

"How are we going to do it, Nana? There are just these little pieces, and this big thing," Legolas held up a fold of the thick canvas that his mother had carried outside. How were they going to make a tent out of a bunch of wooden poles and one big piece of cloth?

"You will see," Thilómë grinned, glancing around the gardens, "First you need to choose a spot though."

A bit later Legolas sat on his mother's lap, helping her to fit and bind the poles together. She had shown him how there were symbols on each piece so that they could be matched, and slowly he could see the parts of a tent coming together.

"Is it going to be like a war tent?" Legolas held two pieces together so that Nana could wrap a length of binding around them. He reached over to grab up the fabric part, smoothing his hand over the leaf-like pattern that the brown and green threads made.

"Not exactly," Thilómë leaned over to pick up another tent pole, "It is a little small for that. It is more like a tent for playing outside in. Now we have to stake these into the ground, and bind the other parts of the frame to them."

Legolas watched as his mother pushed the poles into the ground, growing more exited as the whole frame took shape. It would be a little tent, just the right size for Elflings to play inside. "Nana, I can play in it, right? That is what it is for, right?"

Thilómë nodded, securing the last pole. She could remember her husband helping Aldandil put this very tent up years and years ago, and being forced to crawl through the tiny door flaps for a look inside. "Yes, Legolas, you may play in it. That is what it is for," the queen grinned, bending to grasp and unfold the canvas. There was a small gasp of delight from her son when the place for the door became apparent, and as she draped the cloth over the frame Legolas circled the tent, anxious for the moment when it would be finished.

 "Can we have snacks inside it, Nana? And do reading in it?" Legolas helped his mother tug the cloth into place, standing back as she tied it down to some of the stakes and poles.

"Yes, Legolas. We will go and find some juice and bread, and then we will bring our books out here, and maybe a blanket to sit on," Thilómë rose from the ground after tying the last cords into place, "You can look at the inside now."

In half a second her son had darted through the opening, and not long after she heard his excited approval, "Nana, it is just right! I would like to have it in my room!"

~*~~*~~*~

Aldandil stood outside the door while Nimaron stepped inside. If they were talking, they were talking very quietly, save for a slight, strained laugh which could not have been the healer's. The older prince's gaze dropped to the vase of flowers again. Why wouldn't Nimaron just take them in? If he was honest with himself, he would admit that he did not wish to see a scalded young lady, especially if that young lady was Meril. 

"Five minutes," Nimaron held up a hand as he exited, fingers splayed.

Aldandil found himself nudged to the door, and stepped inside, surprised at how cheerful it actually seemed. There were several vases of colorful flowers, and a bright quilt of yellow and blue covered the bed. His eyes fell for half a moment on the figure sitting there, darting back to the flowers he held. It did not seem right to look…the maiden's hands had been bandaged thickly, and her chin and lower jaw were a painful, peeling red. He realized with a shock that the loose summer nightgown she wore covered more bandages.

"Hello," he managed, taking sudden interest in the low shelf that ran along one wall, then lifted the vase slightly, "I just brought these. That's all."

"They're so pretty," the girl's voice came tiredly, and she looked at them for a moment before regarding the prince. Aldandil had not purposely spoken to her for years, and she wondered just why he was here now, "Who are they from?"

"My mother," Aldandil responded quickly, pushing the vase onto the shelf, "I brought them. I hope you like them."

Meril looked at him for a moment, feeling an odd tinge of disappointment in finding out that the queen had sent the flowers, though she quickly dismissed it. Why should Aldandil have decided to bring flowers for her himself? "May I see them?"

"Umm, yes," Aldandil lifted the vase again, carrying it to the bed. He waited impatiently as the maiden inhaled the sweet scent, her pale tresses falling forward.

"Mmm," she smiled, raising her head and allowing the young Elf to deposit the vase on the shelf, "Thank you."

"Your welcome," Aldandil headed for the door, "I wish you a fast recovery."

He was nearly out when Meril called him back, her face holding a questioning expression. "Aldandil, do you remember me?"

"Yes, of course," he nodded, "You tried to slice my head off with my own sword."

~*~

If she had been able to use her hands, Meril would have swatted him…or at least seriously considered it. After all these years, why did he have to bring up that one embarrassing episode? There were a hundred other things he could have said, anything from 'Oh, yes, you are that girl from Sein Maethor Laer' to 'Why, of course, Meril, how could I ever forget?' If Aldandil had come on a visit to wish her well, then why couldn't he simply say so and be on his way?

Because, Meril reasoned with herself, Because I caught him on his way out. There had been a small part of herself that had forced her to ask the question, wondering terribly if there was some similar little bit of him that possibly still liked her.

"I was not trying to slice your head off," she finally responded, staring at her bandaged hands. She could remember gripping the intricate hilt of a beautiful long sword in them and then wanting to throw that very sword on the ground with a million curses. She tentatively moved a few fingers within the bandages, wincing at the searing pain it caused. The idea of holding a sword again did not seem very appealing, for more reasons than one.

"It certainly seemed like it," Aldandil commented, immediately regretting the cold hint that had edged its way into his voice. This did not seem like a diplomatic and kind visit anymore. Here he was getting upset with a young lady obviously in pain, instead of relieving her. He should have politely inquired about her visits to the Havens or apologized for not writing letters, but the unfortunate sword practice event had been foremost in his mind, and still was. He drew in a long breath, "What were you trying to do then?"

"Impress you!" Meril blurted, pushing back into the pillows on the bed. Now would be a very good time for Aldandil to leave. It would have been so nice to have just one pleasant talk with him, like before, but that seemed a very unlikely possibility. She sighed, regaining what composure she had, "I…I thought that you would like it…being able to know that I had practiced so carefully, that's all. I'm very tired now. Thank you for bringing the flowers. Please tell your mother that I appreciate them."

"I will," Aldandil nodded numbly, heading for the door and pulling it closed as he left, "I wish you well." Once outside he let himself sink onto a bench in the corridor, putting his head into his hands.

Oh, Valar…she had been trying to impress him. She had thought that he would like it. The situation just did not seem to be getting any better for him.

~*~~*~~*~

Thranduil stepped out of his study, pausing in the hallway to look out one of the windows. Down in the near garden was a tiny, Elfling-sized tent, and he grinned, knowing that his wife and younger son were probably inside of it at the moment. Sure enough, when he had watched for a few moments Thilómë's silver head appeared through the doorway as she crawled out on her hands and knees, quickly followed by Legolas, who still did not even have to crouch to come out.

"Hello, Adar," Aldandil's dull voice pulled the king's attention from the window, and he turned to see his older son making his way down the hall.

"I take it that your visit did not go very well?" Thranduil waited for his son join him near the window. The issues surrounding Lady Meril had been a topic of concern recently, though Aldandil had mentioned relatively little himself.

"Not very well at all," Aldandil responded, continuing in the direction of his room.

Thranduil laid a hand on his son's shoulder, "If you would like to talk about it, Aldandil…"

"Thank you, Adar, but I really don't think that would help," Aldandil paused in the corridor. Adar and Naneth got along so well, and whenever they spoke of their early days together it was with light voices and wide smiles. It was doubtful that Adar would be able to understand the complete mess he had made of things. But then, maybe after being with Naneth for so long he might have some idea of what to do, if anything… "Did…did you have any problems with Naneth after you first met her?"

"Yes," Thranduil prodded his son towards his study, somewhat relieved that his son had asked a question. Perhaps he could at least figure out what had happened and determine if there was really anything to be concerned about, "Yes, I did."

~*~~*~~*~

Thilómë slid into bed, enjoying the comfort of the cool sheets. Thankfully Legolas had not begged her to spend the night in the little tent outside. The woods and gardens might sing sweetly to the soul, but at night a soft bed shared with her husband was much more welcoming than a bedroll on the ground.

"I believe," Thranduil poured himself a glass of water before getting into bed, then spoke to his wife between slow drinks, "That I am much more fond of you now than I was when we first met."

Thilómë propped herself up on her elbows to look at him, "I am positive that I am more fond of you." She sank back into the pillow again, pressing her fingers together, "Serious, serious Thranduil. All firm lines and power."

"Firm lines and power," Thranduil pushed his empty glass onto a table, crossing the room to join his wife. He got into bed, taking one of his wife's hands to hold. "I suppose."

Thilómë smiled to herself, enjoying the way her husband absently massaged her fingers with his own, "How was your talk with Aldandil?"

Thranduil sighed heavily, releasing his wife's hand so that he could turn and face her, "It was long. Very long."

~*~~*~~*~

Legolas snuggled deeper into his blankets, pleasant thoughts already coming to gently pull his mind towards the realm of dreams. The Elfling stretched and then curled up, his face nuzzled against a fold of his favorite blanket as he yawned. All seemed good in the world at the moment: he had his very own tent, practice at archery would make him better at it, and his brother was not upset with him.

"Legolas?" Aldandil's voice nudged the child's mind back towards the present, "Legolas, I think that maybe we should go inside now."

"I like it here," the Elfling mumbled, rolling over a little so that his face was in his pillow. He went on tiredly, already half asleep, "Ada said I could stay here if you were with me."

Aldandil let out a long sigh, wondering how he could possibly get a little more comfortable. The tent was only so long, and though Legolas had plenty of room, he had to lie flat on his back with his knees bent. "Legolas, wouldn't you like to sleep in your bed? I could even carry you there, and you could say goodnight to Adar and Naneth again."

"No," Legolas responded, letting out a long yawn before continuing, "I like this better than my bed. Maybe when I'm bigger I will sleep outside all…all the time."

Why had he agreed to this? Aldandil remembered this tent being sizably bigger some years ago, but he had also been sizably smaller then. He nudged his brother a little, "Legolas, I don't think I'll be able to sleep here. It's too small."

The Elfling blinked a few times, glancing around the inside of the tent. The moon's light made shadows of trees on the sides, and the night air was refreshing. It was so nice here, but if Aldandil left then they would both have to go inside. Legolas yawned again, smiling as an idea struck him, "You can fit if you push your feet out the door."

~*~~*~~*~

~Responses to Reviewers~

 *Dragon-of-the-north: Hi there! Once again I was thrilled to get one of your long and wonderful reviews…they are really something to look forward to!

Writing about summer is nice, especially since we are starting to experience the joys of freezing rain and ice here. *g*

The whole trip to the archery green involved so many of those typical childhood competition sorts of things: the children's excitement and disappointment, the comparisons that are undoubtedly going to be made, and the parents' worries and wishes. Of course, if Legolas and his friends had taken a moment to really look at the arrows and target, they would have figured out that several of Legolas' arrows would have hit dead-on if they had gone a little farther.

Aldandil and Nimaron's friendship has been fun to write and the two (especially Aldandil) have certainly managed to carve out a bigger-than-anticipated place for themselves in this "Lego-centric" story. I agree…Nimaron's attempt to relax by drinking and talking with Aldan are rather futile, but I think you are right that this friendship with the prince is going to do him good. As for Nimaron romance, I think the poor healer is still fighting it even after returning to Rivendell.

And now you've gotten to see a hint of Meril's side of the story, and the effect it has on Aldandil. There will most certainly be more. *g*

*None: I am glad you continue to enjoy the story—thank you for keeping up with it!

*SperryDee: Athletics are very fun, I think, but can get to be rather trying once competition comes into the picture. I think that Legolas' friends did not really mean to insult him (they were merely pointing out the truth, as children will do), but they did manage to upset him a little.

*Autore Kozoma: Hello there! I can see where it would be amusing that the other children say those things to Legolas when you remember how wonderful an archer he is when he's older. I'm sure even Arasil will found himself undeniably beat someday. *g*

*Elainor: I'm glad that you like this story, and that you feel you know the characters. If you would like to know why Legolas is the way he is strength-wise, the story is all in the earlier fics "Light of Sons" and "Ardent Shine the Stars". To make those long stories short, Tolkien mentions that Elf parents pass some of their own spirits/strength to their children as they're born and grow up, and Legolas' mother has very little to pass on to him, so he has to build up the little bit that he has (not exactly easy for a little Elfling!).

When you ask about Thranduil's story, do you mean the story of his early relationship with his wife? *muses* That could get thrown it somewhere…

*Elberethia: Ah…Jasta's "Dark Leaf" is quite the angst-ridden story (and incredibly well written). I'm glad that you are enjoying the occasional angst-y bits of this story. Aldandil's love story is bound to give him a few headaches.

*cagedphoenix: *guilty look* My updates are hardly ever soon, but I'm glad you enjoy them when they do come around.

*daw the minstrel: Meril's side of the sword practice story is significantly different than Aldandil's, and it really is too bad that they have to hack through all of their misunderstandings now (if ever).

I've always had a hard time with little kids competing…there are some who truly enjoy it no matter what the results, but I have a few little ones in my AWANA group who are about ready to cry when they repeatedly give it their best shot only to continually finish last.  

*Lutris: I'm glad that you liked Thranduil's talk with Legolas; it is nice to write him as that sort of father. And I'm glad you like Nim. *big grin*

*sugaricing: It dawned on me that you were talking about your picture in your last review, not mine…I hope you enjoyed it anyway! Do let me know if you find your photo; I would still like to see it.

*Iluvien: I'm sure that Legolas will manage to beat Arasil someday, and for now I will admit to enjoying the little bits of the story where he gets to cuddle up with Ada and Nana (though I do feel sorry for the little one).

I'm glad your enjoying the parts with Aldandil and Nimaron…it is taking something of a turn now (Nim, at least while in Mirkwood, is a hopeless cause). Let me know what you think. *g*

*Legolas4me: I think that the other children were only pointing out the truth in the situation, in all fairness. I'm sure that Legolas' parents will continue to encourage him as he grows up.

*LOTRFaith: Hello! I do not mind late reviews at all…it is nice to hear something during the long stretches between updates. *g* Nim could use a wife, but—alas!—he's just so horribly caught up in his work (and he is honest when he mentions that the decision was mutual…his lady-friend makes her appearance in "Singing Songs" and is just as obsessive over her tasks).

*Krystle: I am thrilled that you've enjoyed all three of the stories! I hope that you've enjoyed the latest chapter.

*waseom: *Cúran races back with a fresh sheet of foil sticky stars and starts bouncing on his toes as he looks around for you* Thanks for letting me know that you're still keeping up with this story. *g*

*Anyone else: Thank you for reading! If you have an extra moment or two, please let me know what you are enjoying (or not enjoying, for that matter). I adore knowing who is checking this out!