A/N: The story will be a little more complicated than the first as it is being told mainly from three point of views- that of Indilisse/ Haldir as parents, and then Emlin, with a little Legolas thrown in for good measure. Also, I am following a mix of movie canon and book canon... you know, the best of both worlds. Slight discrepancy of ages for Legolas from first story... he is 2,931 as according to Peter Jackson.
Chapter 3- Hate You/Love You
"I have to go see my father!" Aranel jumped up from her seat on the stone bench amongst the winter flowers, her soft pink gown fluttering around her with the quick movements.
"Why?" Emlin asked, and looked up at her cousin's grey eyes.
"Because." Aranel replied, looking around, "If your father is back, that means my father is back, and I want to see him."
Emlin sighed and nodded her head, standing up and smoothing her own lavender dress over her tall frame. She really hated it when Aranel and Rúmil greeted each other when he was back from the borders. It always seemed so happy and loving, and definitely not what she thought when she welcomed her own father back from the borders. Sure, Emlin was glad when her father returned from the borders. That meant nothing bad had happened to him. That, then, would mean her mother would not be heart broken and have to pass into the west. The last thing she wished was to see her mother in pain...
But sometimes, just sometimes, it made her physically unwell to see Aranel and Rúmil speak to each other and witness the caring relationship they shared. Emlin had always blamed that on the fact that Aranel was her aunt and uncle's only child, but she knew in her heart that this was not the case. Even before there was mention of another child between her mother and father, Emlin had never had that great a relationship with her father, the bonds they shared at all times besting at indifference. That was what it was; she held little concern for him whatsoever, because he seemed to do the same to her paying more attention to Thoron or by being always out on the borders. And that was the difference with her cousin's relationship. Rúmil had always spent a great deal of his time with Aranel.
"Why do you not wish to see Uncle Haldir?" Aranel asked.
Emlin chewed on her bottom lip, "You know why, Aranel."
"I do not think that is a good reason," Aranel replied, starting for the path to lead them through the trees and up the long staircases. Emlin followed quickly behind her younger cousin by only a few years in silence. Aranel glanced at her, "Ada says that your father was like he is to you when Ada and Uncle Orophin were still small and their parents passed."
"I cannot believe that." Emlin said, "All three have such a close relationship... probably because they are all males. Maybe that is why he does not like me so much, because I was his first born and not a male."
Aranel scoffed and rolled her eyes, "You know that is ridiculous, Emlin. Could it possibly be because you are too opinionated and close yourself off from?"
Emlin was quiet and sighed, deciding it better to not speak of the issue any more to avoid a fight with her closest ally. They walked a little more in silence, Emlin's mind on her father rather than where she was walking and what was going on around her. A hand jutted out from her side to stop her in her spot. Emlin looked up at Aranel and saw that her face was unmoving as she listened carefully to the surrounding trees. She raised a questioning brow, "What is it Aranel?"
"Dîn!" Aranel hissed.
She looked up in direction Aranel's eyes were gazing and heard the distant speaking of Westron. Her father and mother, as well as the Lord and Lady, were the only ones who knew such a tongue so fluently among the inhabitants of Caras Galadhon. They had taught her the language as well as they could, but she had never had much practice as she had never traveled outside of Lórien.
"Do you know what they say?" Aranel asked, "Ada has only taught me a few words in the language."
"I do not care what they say," Emlin said. "I only care who is here in the city and why my father let them in. If Ada had a choice, he would never allow another person- even if they were kin from other lands- in."
Aranel glanced at Emlin, and let a mischievous smile cross her features, "Shall we go take a closer look, cousin?"
"I though you would never ask!" Emlin giggled and grabbed Aranel's hand, starting a slow trot in the direction of the speaking. They stopped just at the thick edging of trees, finding that her father and mother were retreating up the stairs towards the talan, leaving the oddest group of beings she had ever seen before in her life. There were four small children with scraggly hair and large hairy feet, two Men with dark hair and grey eyes, and a hairy being taller then the children and smaller than the Men. This last one Emlin saw drew a great deal of her attention as he seemed the most interesting, and looked like he had laughed many times with the etched lines in his face, even though he seemed to be very sad.
"What are they?" Aranel asked quietly.
"The two tall ones are of the race of Men." Emlin said, "But I do not know what the others are. That squat one with the long beard, he looks interesting."
Aranel grimaced, "He is so... so... hairy and ugly."
"He is not!" Emlin exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly as it drew the attention of the man with a horn at his side. He was sitting near their bush and stood up to look around curiously, but did not see them and sat back down, tending to his weapons. Emlin felt herself blush and ducked lower behind the shrub and giggled, "He looks interesting."
"I bet he is one of those Dwarves that Ada talks about." Aranel said.
Emlin looked back as the hairy dwarf set his axe down against the large bole of a mallorn and removed the heavy looking helmet atop is head. He did look like a dwarf, well at least according to the way her mother had described them... and had also, in the same breath, told Emlin that Haldir hated them. Oh how that would anger her father if she were to befriend a dwarf! But she really did not care, her father would have to accept the fact that she did not judge a someone from past dealings or what his outsides looked like.
As soon as her fancy found the dwarf, though, Emlin's attention was quickly diverted by the vision of an elf coming from behind a tree. He was a strange elf clad in brown and green, his hair the finest of spun gold and eyes as dark blue as the raging sea. He must have been with these travelers as she had never seen him before. Emlin did not know if her gasp of delight was entirely in her head or if she had actually let it escape her lips, but from Aranel's look, she knew that it had indeed been aloud. This elf was far more beautiful than any other she had seen in her life... he was taller than many elves, and had an athletically lithe build, rather than the large muscular build of her father and uncles. The only thing about him, though, was that he looked saddened. As a matter of fact, all of these travelers looked sad and tired- as if they had been through a great battle.
"Aranel! Emlin!" The spying cousins heard lowly from behind them, "What do you think you are doing?"
They turned around to find Aranel's mother standing with large plates of food balancing on her arms and two decanters of wine in her hands. She was followed by a few other elves who were bringing small tables to set the food on and bedding for the travelers to sleep on. Aranel was the first to speak, "Nana, we were only curious."
Emlin nodded her head, "Aranel does not know the Westron tongue."
"Neither do I!" Narië exclaimed and chuckled, "Come, help me carry these things, girls. You can translate for us, Emlin, but I warn you that we cannot stay long. They are very weary and need rest."
Emlin and Aranel exchanged excited glances and each quickly grabbed a tray of food from her, leaving Narië with the wine. With giggles, they followed Narië into the small clearing near the fountain with the other elves. Emlin was careful to watch where she stepped, so as not the trip on anything, but she found herself paying closer attention to the elves setting up the tables than her feet. Her foot caught on the strap of a quiver by a tree and she began to stumble, only to feel two sure hands upon her shoulders, steadying her. Emlin stared at the chest in front of her, finding that it was the same green suede outer tunic that the mysterious elf wore. Desperately trying to maintain her blush, she slowly raised her eyes to meet the intense blue ones looking down at her.
"Hannon le," Emlin mumbled, finding that the perfection of his face was nothing until you saw it up close. The strong definition of his cheek bones to a squared jaw were so masculine, yet his lips appeared so soft and his eyes so intense.
He smiled slightly, "I am sorry, lirimaer. I should not have left my quiver there."
The sound of his voice was smoother than any other elves' she could recall, and the way he said 'lirimaer' was unlike anything she had ever heard. "Do n-not worry." Emlin thought she must have been as bright crimson as her father's cloak by now, not believing that she had actually stuttered.
His smile grew larger, "Let me take that for you, lirimaer."
He said it again! Why did he say it again?! Could he not tell that she was fast slipping into a puddle of embarrassment and nerves? Her body did not react as he easily lifted the tray from her arms and set it down on a nearby table. Emlin watched in fascination as his body moved in effortless accordance as he bent over the food and plucked a berry from it. He swallowed the red fruit quickly as he straightened his lean body and walked the few steps back to her.
"We have not met, lirimaer, but I feel as if I seen your eyes before." He looked at her curiously. "What is your name, sweet elleth?"
Oh Elbereth, she was not going to survive this night. She broke her gaze from his eyes for a few quick moments before answer, "Emlin."
"Then I shall call you Aiwë." He said, seriously.
Small bird? Was she such a small bird? Why could it not have been dove or swan? At least it was better than Emlin, as she had always hated being named after a yellowhammer of winter that her father had beheld right after her birth. Oh how she hated sitting and listening to that particular story over and over again! Remembering that he was still standing in front of her, she summoned her courage and asked, "And what are you called?"
"I am Legolas of Mirkwood." He replied, "But you may address me as Legolas."
Had he said that in arrogance or in jest? Really it did not matter as she was standing in front of... her level of embarrassment shot up ten fold. She uttered an almost unintelligible, "Prince Lego..."
Legolas took her right hand and kissed the backs if her fingers, "Aye, my lady, I am, but call me Legolas."
She stared at him in wonderment and silence. Her mother had told her many stories before of the elves beyond the lands of Lórien. Some about Lord Elrond's handsome twin sons, and of his equally handsome advisors Erestor and Glorfindel in Imladris. Of course Elrond's sons had to be handsome as their sister was almost as beautiful as Galadriel herself. And of Mirkwood, Nana had always talked of the beauty of the king and his son, but she had never believed it. Not until this moment had Emlin believed what her mother said.
"Emlin, let us go!"
Go away, I do not want to go!
"Emlin..." It was no longer possible to remain there looking deep into his emotion-filled eyes as Aranel's hands were on her arm and tugging her out of the clearing. Emlin glanced back at Legolas as they moved away from him and he smiled, though it was not pure happiness. She had sensed his greatly melancholy spirit while speaking with him, but it was quickly pushed aside with the way he had been speaking to her.
When they were a safe distance away, Emlin turned to Aranel. "Why did you make me leave?"
Aranel laughed, "If I had not, you would have drooled on his boots like a hawk eyeing it's prey."
"I would not have!" Emlin said in defense of Aranel's accusation.
"Emlin, you could hardly speak coherently." Aranel giggled, "And half of the time your face was bright red in a blush."
Emlin could not control another blush, "Not true."
Aranel shook her head, "Oh please, I would have melted easily with an elven prince calling me lovely one, and I do not even like ellyn all that much!"
"You heard that?" Emlin asked.
"Everyone did." Aranel placed a friendly hand on Emlin's shoulder, "And they were chuckling about it as well."
Now she was mortified, not embarrassed. What had they all thought of that situation? And her aunt had seen it as well! Narië would probably tell Nana soon of what a fool Emlin had made of herself, and that she had bothered the prince, and that they had been spying on the group of newcomers. Her life, as she knew it, was close to being over on this very night.
"What were they saying?" Emlin questioned.
Aranel shrugged her shoulders, "How should I know? They speak differently than I."
Emlin was silent and chewed on her lip, hoping that she had not acted too badly. They walked up the long flights of stairs and parted ways for their separate talans. She walked up the last few stairs to the talan and opened the door as quietly as she could manage so as not to wake her light-resting parents, but she was not surprised when she saw the pale glow of the fireplace from the corner of the front room. Sitting in his large chair, turning the pages of a thick book, sat her father in leggings and a gauzy under tunic. He did not acknowledge her presence for quite a while, but Emlin knew that he would not like it if she continued back to her chamber without a welcome. So many times Emlin had tried to, but could not, understand what Nana saw in Ada to make her fall in love with him. There was his less than personable, overbearing character, his opinionated views, and his unwillingness to be taught a different school of thought if he had learned it one way. How could Nana love such an orc? But then again, her mother loved her, and she was sure that she was quite the orc at times.
Emlin sighed and watched her father read the book... one of the ones Nana had written recently... and noticed for the first time just why her mother had fallen in love with him. She had, on more than one occasion, seen her mother and father alone, sharing a quiet kiss or moment together. This moment reminded her of those times, but that of course was before either she or Ada opened their mouths. Emlin always witnessed the love they shared, even if many of the times she was around them, it was her mother mediating the melee between her father and her. Really, she should have vowed just to end her arguments with Ada for the sake of Nana, but then that would show her concession to him. She would never allow him to think that he had won the battle between them.
"You are home awfully late, Emlin." He spoke, still not looking up from his book.
"I am sorry Ada." Emlin replied, "Aranel and I were in the gardens, and heard talking in Westron. Aunt Narië caught us an made us help bring them food for the evening."
Haldir closed the book and placed it on the side table, slowly standing up. "I hope you did not pester them, Emlin."
She gave him a incredulous look, "I believe I am beyond pestering, Ada. Have you forgotten that I am forty years old?"
"Nay, I have not." Haldir shook his head and stood before her. "Are you hungry?"
Emlin nodded her head, noticing the low growl in her stomach for the first time since meeting Legolas. "Where is Nana?"
"She is resting," Haldir replied. "Can you not speak civilly to me without her?"
She cast her eyes on the table as she sat down. "I do not know."
He moved quietly about, fixing a plate with some breads, cheeses and fruits and sat it down in front of her. In a few more minutes, he poured two clay mugs of tea and handed one to her. It felt odd to have her father acting in such a way around her, and even odder to have him sit down and attempt a conversation with her. He was always too busy for such things, but there was something in his demeanor tonight that told her things were going to different. She ate in an uneasy silence for quite some time until her father let out a long sigh.
"You look so much like your mother, Emlin." Haldir said reticently.
"I will take that as a compliment, Ada." She replied, a small smile on her lips. This conversation was shaping up to be one of their better ones, and she was thankful for that.
He chuckled, "You should, your mother is the most beautiful elleth in all of Lórien."
Emlin blushed slightly and brushed back a piece hair that had fallen in her eyes. "True."
"But I fear what I gifted you, pen neth, was my personality." He continued. Oh Elbereth, it almost hurt to admit that she was so much like her father, but it was true. Their personalities could be switched and no one would be the wiser, except for the fact that she was far more open minded than her adar. "At least you got a touch of your mother's open-mindedness."
"I do not understand what you are trying to say, Ada." Emlin said, looking up at him.
Haldir reached out to touch her hand. She almost pulled away, but stopped herself. "I do not even know what I am trying to say, pen neth. A part of me says that we should understand each other, and be close, but another part of me disagrees with all your ideals because you are so headstrong."
What was she supposed to say to that? Was he apologizing? Or only qualifying their actions towards each other up to this point?
"I see the confusion in your face, Emlin." He pulled his hand away from hers. "But I was speaking with your mother tonight, and I realized that I might not have that much time left with you."
"I do not understand Ada." Maybe if she just kept repeating it, he would stop.
Haldir sighed heavily, "The darkness is increasing, pen neth, and I fear that I may be called to go to battle beyond these woods. I would not wish to pass into the Halls of Mandos without the love of my only daughter."
Emlin was unmoving, seeing the utter worry in his eyes that he could very well have to leave to fight in the great war and that he could die. She felt the emotion rising in her throat, but pushed it down as far as she could. She was stronger than this! "Ada..."
"It is late, pen neth." He stood and walked to a counter to place the food plate and tea there to wash in morning. Emlin watched him closely, feeling so conflicted now. She hated him... and then she loved him. It was a never ending circle that she seemed to be running in. Haldir turned back to her, "Would you like to go riding on the morrow, Emlin? I have to return to the borders in a few days."
"Do you not have an archery lesson planned?" Emlin replied far more bitterly than she had wished.
"I do not think one day without a lesson would hurt your brother or make him better at this age, pen neth. Do you not agree?" He said sarcastically.
She giggled, "Aye, I agree, Ada. For once, I do agree with you."
----
pen neth- young one
Dîn- Quiet!
lirimaer- lovely one
Aiwë- small bird (in Quenya)
Ada- Dad
Nana- Mom
Chapter 3- Hate You/Love You
"I have to go see my father!" Aranel jumped up from her seat on the stone bench amongst the winter flowers, her soft pink gown fluttering around her with the quick movements.
"Why?" Emlin asked, and looked up at her cousin's grey eyes.
"Because." Aranel replied, looking around, "If your father is back, that means my father is back, and I want to see him."
Emlin sighed and nodded her head, standing up and smoothing her own lavender dress over her tall frame. She really hated it when Aranel and Rúmil greeted each other when he was back from the borders. It always seemed so happy and loving, and definitely not what she thought when she welcomed her own father back from the borders. Sure, Emlin was glad when her father returned from the borders. That meant nothing bad had happened to him. That, then, would mean her mother would not be heart broken and have to pass into the west. The last thing she wished was to see her mother in pain...
But sometimes, just sometimes, it made her physically unwell to see Aranel and Rúmil speak to each other and witness the caring relationship they shared. Emlin had always blamed that on the fact that Aranel was her aunt and uncle's only child, but she knew in her heart that this was not the case. Even before there was mention of another child between her mother and father, Emlin had never had that great a relationship with her father, the bonds they shared at all times besting at indifference. That was what it was; she held little concern for him whatsoever, because he seemed to do the same to her paying more attention to Thoron or by being always out on the borders. And that was the difference with her cousin's relationship. Rúmil had always spent a great deal of his time with Aranel.
"Why do you not wish to see Uncle Haldir?" Aranel asked.
Emlin chewed on her bottom lip, "You know why, Aranel."
"I do not think that is a good reason," Aranel replied, starting for the path to lead them through the trees and up the long staircases. Emlin followed quickly behind her younger cousin by only a few years in silence. Aranel glanced at her, "Ada says that your father was like he is to you when Ada and Uncle Orophin were still small and their parents passed."
"I cannot believe that." Emlin said, "All three have such a close relationship... probably because they are all males. Maybe that is why he does not like me so much, because I was his first born and not a male."
Aranel scoffed and rolled her eyes, "You know that is ridiculous, Emlin. Could it possibly be because you are too opinionated and close yourself off from?"
Emlin was quiet and sighed, deciding it better to not speak of the issue any more to avoid a fight with her closest ally. They walked a little more in silence, Emlin's mind on her father rather than where she was walking and what was going on around her. A hand jutted out from her side to stop her in her spot. Emlin looked up at Aranel and saw that her face was unmoving as she listened carefully to the surrounding trees. She raised a questioning brow, "What is it Aranel?"
"Dîn!" Aranel hissed.
She looked up in direction Aranel's eyes were gazing and heard the distant speaking of Westron. Her father and mother, as well as the Lord and Lady, were the only ones who knew such a tongue so fluently among the inhabitants of Caras Galadhon. They had taught her the language as well as they could, but she had never had much practice as she had never traveled outside of Lórien.
"Do you know what they say?" Aranel asked, "Ada has only taught me a few words in the language."
"I do not care what they say," Emlin said. "I only care who is here in the city and why my father let them in. If Ada had a choice, he would never allow another person- even if they were kin from other lands- in."
Aranel glanced at Emlin, and let a mischievous smile cross her features, "Shall we go take a closer look, cousin?"
"I though you would never ask!" Emlin giggled and grabbed Aranel's hand, starting a slow trot in the direction of the speaking. They stopped just at the thick edging of trees, finding that her father and mother were retreating up the stairs towards the talan, leaving the oddest group of beings she had ever seen before in her life. There were four small children with scraggly hair and large hairy feet, two Men with dark hair and grey eyes, and a hairy being taller then the children and smaller than the Men. This last one Emlin saw drew a great deal of her attention as he seemed the most interesting, and looked like he had laughed many times with the etched lines in his face, even though he seemed to be very sad.
"What are they?" Aranel asked quietly.
"The two tall ones are of the race of Men." Emlin said, "But I do not know what the others are. That squat one with the long beard, he looks interesting."
Aranel grimaced, "He is so... so... hairy and ugly."
"He is not!" Emlin exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly as it drew the attention of the man with a horn at his side. He was sitting near their bush and stood up to look around curiously, but did not see them and sat back down, tending to his weapons. Emlin felt herself blush and ducked lower behind the shrub and giggled, "He looks interesting."
"I bet he is one of those Dwarves that Ada talks about." Aranel said.
Emlin looked back as the hairy dwarf set his axe down against the large bole of a mallorn and removed the heavy looking helmet atop is head. He did look like a dwarf, well at least according to the way her mother had described them... and had also, in the same breath, told Emlin that Haldir hated them. Oh how that would anger her father if she were to befriend a dwarf! But she really did not care, her father would have to accept the fact that she did not judge a someone from past dealings or what his outsides looked like.
As soon as her fancy found the dwarf, though, Emlin's attention was quickly diverted by the vision of an elf coming from behind a tree. He was a strange elf clad in brown and green, his hair the finest of spun gold and eyes as dark blue as the raging sea. He must have been with these travelers as she had never seen him before. Emlin did not know if her gasp of delight was entirely in her head or if she had actually let it escape her lips, but from Aranel's look, she knew that it had indeed been aloud. This elf was far more beautiful than any other she had seen in her life... he was taller than many elves, and had an athletically lithe build, rather than the large muscular build of her father and uncles. The only thing about him, though, was that he looked saddened. As a matter of fact, all of these travelers looked sad and tired- as if they had been through a great battle.
"Aranel! Emlin!" The spying cousins heard lowly from behind them, "What do you think you are doing?"
They turned around to find Aranel's mother standing with large plates of food balancing on her arms and two decanters of wine in her hands. She was followed by a few other elves who were bringing small tables to set the food on and bedding for the travelers to sleep on. Aranel was the first to speak, "Nana, we were only curious."
Emlin nodded her head, "Aranel does not know the Westron tongue."
"Neither do I!" Narië exclaimed and chuckled, "Come, help me carry these things, girls. You can translate for us, Emlin, but I warn you that we cannot stay long. They are very weary and need rest."
Emlin and Aranel exchanged excited glances and each quickly grabbed a tray of food from her, leaving Narië with the wine. With giggles, they followed Narië into the small clearing near the fountain with the other elves. Emlin was careful to watch where she stepped, so as not the trip on anything, but she found herself paying closer attention to the elves setting up the tables than her feet. Her foot caught on the strap of a quiver by a tree and she began to stumble, only to feel two sure hands upon her shoulders, steadying her. Emlin stared at the chest in front of her, finding that it was the same green suede outer tunic that the mysterious elf wore. Desperately trying to maintain her blush, she slowly raised her eyes to meet the intense blue ones looking down at her.
"Hannon le," Emlin mumbled, finding that the perfection of his face was nothing until you saw it up close. The strong definition of his cheek bones to a squared jaw were so masculine, yet his lips appeared so soft and his eyes so intense.
He smiled slightly, "I am sorry, lirimaer. I should not have left my quiver there."
The sound of his voice was smoother than any other elves' she could recall, and the way he said 'lirimaer' was unlike anything she had ever heard. "Do n-not worry." Emlin thought she must have been as bright crimson as her father's cloak by now, not believing that she had actually stuttered.
His smile grew larger, "Let me take that for you, lirimaer."
He said it again! Why did he say it again?! Could he not tell that she was fast slipping into a puddle of embarrassment and nerves? Her body did not react as he easily lifted the tray from her arms and set it down on a nearby table. Emlin watched in fascination as his body moved in effortless accordance as he bent over the food and plucked a berry from it. He swallowed the red fruit quickly as he straightened his lean body and walked the few steps back to her.
"We have not met, lirimaer, but I feel as if I seen your eyes before." He looked at her curiously. "What is your name, sweet elleth?"
Oh Elbereth, she was not going to survive this night. She broke her gaze from his eyes for a few quick moments before answer, "Emlin."
"Then I shall call you Aiwë." He said, seriously.
Small bird? Was she such a small bird? Why could it not have been dove or swan? At least it was better than Emlin, as she had always hated being named after a yellowhammer of winter that her father had beheld right after her birth. Oh how she hated sitting and listening to that particular story over and over again! Remembering that he was still standing in front of her, she summoned her courage and asked, "And what are you called?"
"I am Legolas of Mirkwood." He replied, "But you may address me as Legolas."
Had he said that in arrogance or in jest? Really it did not matter as she was standing in front of... her level of embarrassment shot up ten fold. She uttered an almost unintelligible, "Prince Lego..."
Legolas took her right hand and kissed the backs if her fingers, "Aye, my lady, I am, but call me Legolas."
She stared at him in wonderment and silence. Her mother had told her many stories before of the elves beyond the lands of Lórien. Some about Lord Elrond's handsome twin sons, and of his equally handsome advisors Erestor and Glorfindel in Imladris. Of course Elrond's sons had to be handsome as their sister was almost as beautiful as Galadriel herself. And of Mirkwood, Nana had always talked of the beauty of the king and his son, but she had never believed it. Not until this moment had Emlin believed what her mother said.
"Emlin, let us go!"
Go away, I do not want to go!
"Emlin..." It was no longer possible to remain there looking deep into his emotion-filled eyes as Aranel's hands were on her arm and tugging her out of the clearing. Emlin glanced back at Legolas as they moved away from him and he smiled, though it was not pure happiness. She had sensed his greatly melancholy spirit while speaking with him, but it was quickly pushed aside with the way he had been speaking to her.
When they were a safe distance away, Emlin turned to Aranel. "Why did you make me leave?"
Aranel laughed, "If I had not, you would have drooled on his boots like a hawk eyeing it's prey."
"I would not have!" Emlin said in defense of Aranel's accusation.
"Emlin, you could hardly speak coherently." Aranel giggled, "And half of the time your face was bright red in a blush."
Emlin could not control another blush, "Not true."
Aranel shook her head, "Oh please, I would have melted easily with an elven prince calling me lovely one, and I do not even like ellyn all that much!"
"You heard that?" Emlin asked.
"Everyone did." Aranel placed a friendly hand on Emlin's shoulder, "And they were chuckling about it as well."
Now she was mortified, not embarrassed. What had they all thought of that situation? And her aunt had seen it as well! Narië would probably tell Nana soon of what a fool Emlin had made of herself, and that she had bothered the prince, and that they had been spying on the group of newcomers. Her life, as she knew it, was close to being over on this very night.
"What were they saying?" Emlin questioned.
Aranel shrugged her shoulders, "How should I know? They speak differently than I."
Emlin was silent and chewed on her lip, hoping that she had not acted too badly. They walked up the long flights of stairs and parted ways for their separate talans. She walked up the last few stairs to the talan and opened the door as quietly as she could manage so as not to wake her light-resting parents, but she was not surprised when she saw the pale glow of the fireplace from the corner of the front room. Sitting in his large chair, turning the pages of a thick book, sat her father in leggings and a gauzy under tunic. He did not acknowledge her presence for quite a while, but Emlin knew that he would not like it if she continued back to her chamber without a welcome. So many times Emlin had tried to, but could not, understand what Nana saw in Ada to make her fall in love with him. There was his less than personable, overbearing character, his opinionated views, and his unwillingness to be taught a different school of thought if he had learned it one way. How could Nana love such an orc? But then again, her mother loved her, and she was sure that she was quite the orc at times.
Emlin sighed and watched her father read the book... one of the ones Nana had written recently... and noticed for the first time just why her mother had fallen in love with him. She had, on more than one occasion, seen her mother and father alone, sharing a quiet kiss or moment together. This moment reminded her of those times, but that of course was before either she or Ada opened their mouths. Emlin always witnessed the love they shared, even if many of the times she was around them, it was her mother mediating the melee between her father and her. Really, she should have vowed just to end her arguments with Ada for the sake of Nana, but then that would show her concession to him. She would never allow him to think that he had won the battle between them.
"You are home awfully late, Emlin." He spoke, still not looking up from his book.
"I am sorry Ada." Emlin replied, "Aranel and I were in the gardens, and heard talking in Westron. Aunt Narië caught us an made us help bring them food for the evening."
Haldir closed the book and placed it on the side table, slowly standing up. "I hope you did not pester them, Emlin."
She gave him a incredulous look, "I believe I am beyond pestering, Ada. Have you forgotten that I am forty years old?"
"Nay, I have not." Haldir shook his head and stood before her. "Are you hungry?"
Emlin nodded her head, noticing the low growl in her stomach for the first time since meeting Legolas. "Where is Nana?"
"She is resting," Haldir replied. "Can you not speak civilly to me without her?"
She cast her eyes on the table as she sat down. "I do not know."
He moved quietly about, fixing a plate with some breads, cheeses and fruits and sat it down in front of her. In a few more minutes, he poured two clay mugs of tea and handed one to her. It felt odd to have her father acting in such a way around her, and even odder to have him sit down and attempt a conversation with her. He was always too busy for such things, but there was something in his demeanor tonight that told her things were going to different. She ate in an uneasy silence for quite some time until her father let out a long sigh.
"You look so much like your mother, Emlin." Haldir said reticently.
"I will take that as a compliment, Ada." She replied, a small smile on her lips. This conversation was shaping up to be one of their better ones, and she was thankful for that.
He chuckled, "You should, your mother is the most beautiful elleth in all of Lórien."
Emlin blushed slightly and brushed back a piece hair that had fallen in her eyes. "True."
"But I fear what I gifted you, pen neth, was my personality." He continued. Oh Elbereth, it almost hurt to admit that she was so much like her father, but it was true. Their personalities could be switched and no one would be the wiser, except for the fact that she was far more open minded than her adar. "At least you got a touch of your mother's open-mindedness."
"I do not understand what you are trying to say, Ada." Emlin said, looking up at him.
Haldir reached out to touch her hand. She almost pulled away, but stopped herself. "I do not even know what I am trying to say, pen neth. A part of me says that we should understand each other, and be close, but another part of me disagrees with all your ideals because you are so headstrong."
What was she supposed to say to that? Was he apologizing? Or only qualifying their actions towards each other up to this point?
"I see the confusion in your face, Emlin." He pulled his hand away from hers. "But I was speaking with your mother tonight, and I realized that I might not have that much time left with you."
"I do not understand Ada." Maybe if she just kept repeating it, he would stop.
Haldir sighed heavily, "The darkness is increasing, pen neth, and I fear that I may be called to go to battle beyond these woods. I would not wish to pass into the Halls of Mandos without the love of my only daughter."
Emlin was unmoving, seeing the utter worry in his eyes that he could very well have to leave to fight in the great war and that he could die. She felt the emotion rising in her throat, but pushed it down as far as she could. She was stronger than this! "Ada..."
"It is late, pen neth." He stood and walked to a counter to place the food plate and tea there to wash in morning. Emlin watched him closely, feeling so conflicted now. She hated him... and then she loved him. It was a never ending circle that she seemed to be running in. Haldir turned back to her, "Would you like to go riding on the morrow, Emlin? I have to return to the borders in a few days."
"Do you not have an archery lesson planned?" Emlin replied far more bitterly than she had wished.
"I do not think one day without a lesson would hurt your brother or make him better at this age, pen neth. Do you not agree?" He said sarcastically.
She giggled, "Aye, I agree, Ada. For once, I do agree with you."
----
pen neth- young one
Dîn- Quiet!
lirimaer- lovely one
Aiwë- small bird (in Quenya)
Ada- Dad
Nana- Mom