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Sorry it took a while again to update. I spent most of the week writing another new fic, then I was browsing on elffic.com and came across the Mary Sue Litmus Test. It scored just a little too high for my liking. Then I started another, but I can't decide where to go with it . . . I have about ten beginnings. I'm very good at starting things.
'Part 18'
"So you think it was a mistake then?" Salia asked, settling herself down on Tulienne's bedchamber floor.
"Yes," Tulienne said firmly. "It was a mistake. Just a very, very, very enjoyable mistake."
"If it was that enjoyable, then surely it wasn't a mistake?"
"It can be a mistake and still feel good. Haldir just does feel good. And smell good. And . . ."
"Taste good?" Salia suggested.
Tulienne stared at her. "I don't believe you just said that."
Salia looked a bit surprised herself. She blushed.
"That's private," Tulienne told her sharply.
"I know."
"It's completely inappropriate for you to say such a thing."
"I'm sorry."
"Even though it's true."
"Ah."
A dull blush started to creep up Tulienne's face. "I mean, not that I've had a chance to conduct a thorough exploration as yet, but . . . " She stopped. "You know what, this conversation should end. Now."
"Right," Salia said, hugging her knees to her chest and leaning back against Tulienne's bed. "What would you like to talk about instead?"
"Oh, I don't know," Tulienne said, picking up her water glass. "Just say something, anything, that will make me forget about Haldir."
"I'm thinking about sleeping with Orophin."
Tulienne nearly choked on a mouthful of water and started coughing violently. "What?" she wheezed finally. "Why? When?"
"I'm not sure," Salia said, winding strands of hair around her fingers. "It's just that . . . well, you seem to think it's great. And since Wyn didn't come running back to us in the middle of the night, it must have been pretty good for her too and . . ."
"Are you mad?" Tulienne interrupted. "Have you forgotten the whole of this conversation already? I've just told you what a horrendous mistake it was for me to . . . well, you know . . . with Haldir, due to my now discovering that his first love is a) not me b) male c) still single d) a prince and e) better looking than me. And that's not even an exhaustive list. Don't even think about it. Keep your legs crossed and your gown on until you're his wife and you can really make him suffer if he screws you over."
"Actually, I think you're the one who's mad," Salia shot back. "You're about to completely overreact and wreck things with Haldir over one drunken kiss that happened four centuries before you even met him."
"That's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"That he lied to me!"
"Well, he hates remembering it, wouldn't you? And isn't that enough to convince you that you haven't got competition? Even if Legolas did come back to Lorien – and he probably never will – Haldir's more likely to spend the visit trying to kill him than in rekindling a romance that exists only in *your* imagination."
Tulienne regarded her uncertainly for a few seconds. "So you think I should just forget about it?"
"Yes."
"Never mention it again."
"Definitely. And apologise to Haldir for getting jealous."
"I'm not jealous," Tulienne said flatly. "Not in the least."
"Fine, what would you call it?" Salia demanded, folding her arms and glaring at her cousin.
Several minutes went by while Tulienne searched her vocabulary. Finally she gave up and her shoulders slumped. "Jealous," she admitted quietly. "It's finally happened, I've turned into one of those elleths who burst into tears every time their lovers glance at another maiden. A couple more days and I'll probably be trailing him all over Lorien and bribing his wardens to spy on him. I loathe myself. I'm insane, I'm pathetic, I'm . . ."
"In love," Salia finished, trying not to laugh. "In your own unique way."
Tulienne frowned. "Do you think Haldir finds jealously unattractive?" she asked.
Salia shot her a disbelieving look. Tulienne pulled a face. "Please don't ever tell anyone I asked that."
"Of course not," Salia promised, grinning. "After all, if Orophin finds out that insanity runs in the family, he might have second thoughts about marrying me."
"He shouldn't worry," Tulienne said wryly. "I get it from my father, believe me. It's Haldir who needs to worry."
"So you don't think he's going to elope with the perfect prince?"
"No," Tulienne said resolutely. "I have now realised the error I made and will henceforth only worry about things that are actually likely to happen."
"Good," Salia said. "Haldir would never leave Lorien anyway."
Tulienne looked uncertain. "But that's not the point, is it?"
Salia grinned and hugged her cousin. "Of course not," she said. "Just kidding."
"So," Tulienne said, when she was released. "I guess I'm supposed to go apologise to Haldir now. Do you think I should take flowers?"
"Well, you could," Salia agreed. "But I'm sure you could come up with a few things he'd like more."
***
Having made all his preparations, Haldir was now relaxing and remembering his father's advice about elleths.
Haldir had often wondered as a young elf why his father had married the elleth he had. He had adored his mother of course, but as he had approached his majority he had begun to realise what a strange match they were. His father had, after all, been Marchwarden himself before he and his wife had left for Valinor, and had demanded - and received - unswerving devotion and unquestioning obedience from all his wardens. With his wife, however, things had been different. Very different.
Haldir vividly recalled one day, coming home from the archery ranges and finding his father putting the finishing touches to a dinner much like the one he had just cooked. Fresh flowers had been on the table and Haldir had found that he and his brothers were to spend the night with friends. Haldir had not been in the least worried by this, as it was a situation that arose frequently in their house. His father was apologising.
On this occasion, however, he had finally gathered the courage to ask a question that had plagued his mind for quite some time. That question being why his father seemed to apologise all the time, even when he had clearly been right.
His father had smiled at him as he had handed Haldir his small overnight bag. "Son," he had said. "Let me give you some valuable advice about marriage. No matter how much you love your wife, you will always have fights. Sometimes you will be right and sometimes she will be. But son, the fight will never end until you admit that she is right. So it saves much energy just to apologise anyway."
At the time, Haldir had decided that if he ever got married – unlikely of course, since maidens were all *such* a nuisance – his wife would be the one apologising to him. And he had told his father that. His father had laughed. A lot.
On balance, he was actually quite glad that his father couldn't see him now.
He heard the knock on his door and sent a silent prayer to the Valar that it was actually Tulienne and not one of his brothers come to make insulting comments on the flower arrangements. And for once, he got his wish.
Tulienne was sniffing the air. "What's that?" she asked.
"Dinner."
Now she was staring at him. "You cooked? You know *how* to cook?"
Haldir wasn't sure whether to feel amused or insulted. "How did you imagine I'd been feeding myself for the last few millennia?"
Tulienne shifted uncomfortably. "I just assumed you ate in the mess halls with the other wardens."
"I do sometimes, but other times I want a home cooked meal. And I actually find cooking quite relaxing." Haldir frowned. "But please don't tell either of my brothers that or they'll be here for every meal."
"Ah," Tulienne said. "So this is just for you, then?"
"Actually I meant it for both of us. To apologise."
"Oh," Tulienne said, looking rather nonplussed. "Actually . . . I came here to apologise to *you*. But I didn't cook. Because I can't. So I'm very glad you did, because I'm hungry."
"You came here to apologise?" Haldir repeated in disbelief. That couldn't be right. He'd seen this scene play countless times and never once had it involved apologies on both sides. Of course, he had usually been sent away before the end.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Tulienne gave him a strange look. "Because I was wrong."
Now what was he supposed to do? This wasn't in the script. He would have to wing it.
"I shouldn't have lied to you," he told her. "It's just . . . it really doesn't rank as one of my favourite memories."
"I overreacted," Tulienne said. "I got a little . . .jealous. I would have warned you I was the jealous type, but I didn't really know I was because I never had anyone to get jealous about before. So we're both right. Or we're both wrong. Either way, I don't think you need to apologise." She paused. "But that smells really good, so can we eat it anyway? I'll provide dessert."
"I thought you said you couldn't cook?"
"Indeed," Tulienne agreed, sliding her arms up around Haldir's neck. "But I don't recall mentioning anything about cooking."
Sorry it took a while again to update. I spent most of the week writing another new fic, then I was browsing on elffic.com and came across the Mary Sue Litmus Test. It scored just a little too high for my liking. Then I started another, but I can't decide where to go with it . . . I have about ten beginnings. I'm very good at starting things.
'Part 18'
"So you think it was a mistake then?" Salia asked, settling herself down on Tulienne's bedchamber floor.
"Yes," Tulienne said firmly. "It was a mistake. Just a very, very, very enjoyable mistake."
"If it was that enjoyable, then surely it wasn't a mistake?"
"It can be a mistake and still feel good. Haldir just does feel good. And smell good. And . . ."
"Taste good?" Salia suggested.
Tulienne stared at her. "I don't believe you just said that."
Salia looked a bit surprised herself. She blushed.
"That's private," Tulienne told her sharply.
"I know."
"It's completely inappropriate for you to say such a thing."
"I'm sorry."
"Even though it's true."
"Ah."
A dull blush started to creep up Tulienne's face. "I mean, not that I've had a chance to conduct a thorough exploration as yet, but . . . " She stopped. "You know what, this conversation should end. Now."
"Right," Salia said, hugging her knees to her chest and leaning back against Tulienne's bed. "What would you like to talk about instead?"
"Oh, I don't know," Tulienne said, picking up her water glass. "Just say something, anything, that will make me forget about Haldir."
"I'm thinking about sleeping with Orophin."
Tulienne nearly choked on a mouthful of water and started coughing violently. "What?" she wheezed finally. "Why? When?"
"I'm not sure," Salia said, winding strands of hair around her fingers. "It's just that . . . well, you seem to think it's great. And since Wyn didn't come running back to us in the middle of the night, it must have been pretty good for her too and . . ."
"Are you mad?" Tulienne interrupted. "Have you forgotten the whole of this conversation already? I've just told you what a horrendous mistake it was for me to . . . well, you know . . . with Haldir, due to my now discovering that his first love is a) not me b) male c) still single d) a prince and e) better looking than me. And that's not even an exhaustive list. Don't even think about it. Keep your legs crossed and your gown on until you're his wife and you can really make him suffer if he screws you over."
"Actually, I think you're the one who's mad," Salia shot back. "You're about to completely overreact and wreck things with Haldir over one drunken kiss that happened four centuries before you even met him."
"That's not the point."
"What is the point?"
"That he lied to me!"
"Well, he hates remembering it, wouldn't you? And isn't that enough to convince you that you haven't got competition? Even if Legolas did come back to Lorien – and he probably never will – Haldir's more likely to spend the visit trying to kill him than in rekindling a romance that exists only in *your* imagination."
Tulienne regarded her uncertainly for a few seconds. "So you think I should just forget about it?"
"Yes."
"Never mention it again."
"Definitely. And apologise to Haldir for getting jealous."
"I'm not jealous," Tulienne said flatly. "Not in the least."
"Fine, what would you call it?" Salia demanded, folding her arms and glaring at her cousin.
Several minutes went by while Tulienne searched her vocabulary. Finally she gave up and her shoulders slumped. "Jealous," she admitted quietly. "It's finally happened, I've turned into one of those elleths who burst into tears every time their lovers glance at another maiden. A couple more days and I'll probably be trailing him all over Lorien and bribing his wardens to spy on him. I loathe myself. I'm insane, I'm pathetic, I'm . . ."
"In love," Salia finished, trying not to laugh. "In your own unique way."
Tulienne frowned. "Do you think Haldir finds jealously unattractive?" she asked.
Salia shot her a disbelieving look. Tulienne pulled a face. "Please don't ever tell anyone I asked that."
"Of course not," Salia promised, grinning. "After all, if Orophin finds out that insanity runs in the family, he might have second thoughts about marrying me."
"He shouldn't worry," Tulienne said wryly. "I get it from my father, believe me. It's Haldir who needs to worry."
"So you don't think he's going to elope with the perfect prince?"
"No," Tulienne said resolutely. "I have now realised the error I made and will henceforth only worry about things that are actually likely to happen."
"Good," Salia said. "Haldir would never leave Lorien anyway."
Tulienne looked uncertain. "But that's not the point, is it?"
Salia grinned and hugged her cousin. "Of course not," she said. "Just kidding."
"So," Tulienne said, when she was released. "I guess I'm supposed to go apologise to Haldir now. Do you think I should take flowers?"
"Well, you could," Salia agreed. "But I'm sure you could come up with a few things he'd like more."
***
Having made all his preparations, Haldir was now relaxing and remembering his father's advice about elleths.
Haldir had often wondered as a young elf why his father had married the elleth he had. He had adored his mother of course, but as he had approached his majority he had begun to realise what a strange match they were. His father had, after all, been Marchwarden himself before he and his wife had left for Valinor, and had demanded - and received - unswerving devotion and unquestioning obedience from all his wardens. With his wife, however, things had been different. Very different.
Haldir vividly recalled one day, coming home from the archery ranges and finding his father putting the finishing touches to a dinner much like the one he had just cooked. Fresh flowers had been on the table and Haldir had found that he and his brothers were to spend the night with friends. Haldir had not been in the least worried by this, as it was a situation that arose frequently in their house. His father was apologising.
On this occasion, however, he had finally gathered the courage to ask a question that had plagued his mind for quite some time. That question being why his father seemed to apologise all the time, even when he had clearly been right.
His father had smiled at him as he had handed Haldir his small overnight bag. "Son," he had said. "Let me give you some valuable advice about marriage. No matter how much you love your wife, you will always have fights. Sometimes you will be right and sometimes she will be. But son, the fight will never end until you admit that she is right. So it saves much energy just to apologise anyway."
At the time, Haldir had decided that if he ever got married – unlikely of course, since maidens were all *such* a nuisance – his wife would be the one apologising to him. And he had told his father that. His father had laughed. A lot.
On balance, he was actually quite glad that his father couldn't see him now.
He heard the knock on his door and sent a silent prayer to the Valar that it was actually Tulienne and not one of his brothers come to make insulting comments on the flower arrangements. And for once, he got his wish.
Tulienne was sniffing the air. "What's that?" she asked.
"Dinner."
Now she was staring at him. "You cooked? You know *how* to cook?"
Haldir wasn't sure whether to feel amused or insulted. "How did you imagine I'd been feeding myself for the last few millennia?"
Tulienne shifted uncomfortably. "I just assumed you ate in the mess halls with the other wardens."
"I do sometimes, but other times I want a home cooked meal. And I actually find cooking quite relaxing." Haldir frowned. "But please don't tell either of my brothers that or they'll be here for every meal."
"Ah," Tulienne said. "So this is just for you, then?"
"Actually I meant it for both of us. To apologise."
"Oh," Tulienne said, looking rather nonplussed. "Actually . . . I came here to apologise to *you*. But I didn't cook. Because I can't. So I'm very glad you did, because I'm hungry."
"You came here to apologise?" Haldir repeated in disbelief. That couldn't be right. He'd seen this scene play countless times and never once had it involved apologies on both sides. Of course, he had usually been sent away before the end.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Tulienne gave him a strange look. "Because I was wrong."
Now what was he supposed to do? This wasn't in the script. He would have to wing it.
"I shouldn't have lied to you," he told her. "It's just . . . it really doesn't rank as one of my favourite memories."
"I overreacted," Tulienne said. "I got a little . . .jealous. I would have warned you I was the jealous type, but I didn't really know I was because I never had anyone to get jealous about before. So we're both right. Or we're both wrong. Either way, I don't think you need to apologise." She paused. "But that smells really good, so can we eat it anyway? I'll provide dessert."
"I thought you said you couldn't cook?"
"Indeed," Tulienne agreed, sliding her arms up around Haldir's neck. "But I don't recall mentioning anything about cooking."
