Thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed. Time is, however, as usual limited, so I'm only going to say thanks again and answer questions that don't ask for a plot revieled. (If it really bugs you to review and not get a direct response, either say so or findsome little question that bugged you).
Elven at Heart: Yes, that's possible.
LJP: I'm afraid I'm a bit confused. Was what a reference to a previous conversation she had with Gimli? No, the story is far from dead. It's actually complete, though I'm thinking about adding and changing a few little things sometime. As for new bits of memory... well, I don't think I have what you're looking for, exactly. But sort of.
Eyes of sky: I've had the same thing happen when I try to check that my updates worked. If you watch the updated date while scrolling through the chapters until it changes to the current (or at least much more recent) date, the new chapter will be listed in the drop-down menu and you can get to it that way.
Zeriae: I'm not that good at writing battle scenes... So I tend to avoid them. Besides, I view the west as being much more peaceful than middle-earth. At the moment, I don't have any future fights planned.
aimee: nope. Did I inadvertantly come up with a name that isn't new to the literary world?
Animir: Actually, elves can and have died while in Valinor. Most by kin-slaying, but at least one died from giving too much of her strength to the son she bore. I think that it would be worse to have one half out and not the other. If you're going to be in that much pain, cheeks puffy and all, might as well be done with it as quickly as possible!
hineko: I never made that connection myself. Yeah, Calmacil was in The Worry Stone.
Chapter 24
Legolas hesitated for a long, long moment before finally lifting his hand to knock. "Lunian?" he asked, again hesitating.
"Hmm? Oh. It's open, Legolas." He heard some papers shift even as he opened the door. "What is it?" she asked, glancing up from a sheet of paper. She was drawing a quill over it rapidly, then slowly, smooth, rough, dotted.
"What are you doing?"
Her ears grew somewhat rosy where they peeked out from her golden hair. "Oh, well…" She sighed and held one of the papers out to him.
His brow rose. "You're drawing dwarves?"
She glared at him. Then stuck her tongue out before moving on to a different page.
Leaning over her shoulder, his brows rose again. "Sam."
"The hobbit, and Shire… mayor? Governor? I don't remember."
Legolas wasn't really listening, looking instead at the page he was holding. "Gloin."
"About time," she muttered. "And Rifer, Dorin, Foirin, Toir… and more whose names I don't recall." She leafed through the sheets, showing various dwarves. Many were simply faces, covered in hair and partially shielded from view by battered helmets and leather armor. A few were sketches of the Glittering Caves.
He laughed when he came across one in particular. He stood out awkwardly among the dwarves, since he was less than half their width and twice as tall as most of them. Several of the dwarves were twisting their heads to get a look at him, while he looked fondly down at Gimli, who was boasting about the work they had done with a mug of ale in his fist. Despite his fondness for the dwarf, his pose perfectly reflected how uneasy he had felt around so many dwarves who liked their axes far more than they cared for any elf. "These are wonderful, Lunian."
"Hmm. I was just thinking about how odd they were, and found myself drawing. I don't remember which hobbit is which, though."
He grinned, shaking his head. "This one is Merry," he murmured, delighting in the apple she had drawn him chewing on. "Ever hungry."
"He was a hobbit, after all."
He chuckled. "Yes," he agreed, pulling up a chair. He shifted through all of the drawings she had done so far, pausing on one of Aragorn. The King looked as he had in Legolas's memory of last seeing him. Still noble, still with that fiery life behind his eyes… but his face was worn, wrinkles upon his skin. Snow had settled upon his dark crown. Another picture entered his vision, covering the elderly king. His spirit lightened, seeing a much younger, cockier Estel grinning rakishly over his sword. A final one made him laugh. "I remember that," he mused, feasting on the Argonath, and the human king with messy hair, who was looking quite ruefully out of the picture.
Lunian glanced up from a drawing of the royal family of Gondor, as they had last seen it, to smile faintly. "As do I. He was getting too excited about such obvious works."
Legolas laughed lightly. "That was the point, Lunian," he teased. "How many are you planning on making?"
"As many as come to mind."
He nodded. "I always kind of wished I could have done this, but my artistic skill tends more towards… nothing, really. I mean, I can paint better than I can do anything else, but I can't paint well."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Well, good. It wouldn't do for you to be able to do everything well."
He gazed at her solemnly. "I can not do that many things well."
"I can't think of anything you can't," she countered. "Archery, daggers, long knife, sword, riding, swimming, climbing…"
"I tend to be somewhat impatient, hasty for an elf."
"Only in some things, at some times," she countered, then laughed. "And really, only if you compare yourself to Treebeard." Her gaze dropped back to the royal family, her eyes softening. "Arwen loved them so… yet it pained her to know how little they knew of the elves."
"They had little chance to know otherwise," he murmured softly. "Save when Eldarion was quite young, we were the only ones to visit."
"And I was merely half-elven at the… the only ones? No one else?"
"A few guards came along the first few times, until we moved to Fangorn."
She frowned, something illusive nagging at her. "How many elves went with you?"
"A few dozen. More came in later years… and all journeyed here, in time."
"Mmm," she glanced back, returning to the sketch to put a bit of wave into Eldarion's hair. "What brought you here?" she asked quietly, setting the picture aside.
He glanced at her, smiling faintly to see the relaxed peace on her face, as it had not been in far too long. Considering the pictures, he rose, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I was going to see if you wanted to spar with me. Test out the returning strength. But I think this more interesting."
She smiled faintly. "Glorfindel would be easier on you," she murmured, not glancing up from the new picture she was sketching.
He saw the lines of a familiar flet in Lothlorien appearing, and bent, kissing her crown. "I'm sure he would, little one. Do join us for dinner."
She laughed softly. "Everyone is so concerned about that."
"About what?"
"I didn't eat for a few days."
"Why not?"
"Thinking. The days slipped by without being marked."
"Ah. I know what that's like. Even so, your body needs sustenance."
"Why? We're immortal, aren't we?"
"There is food for the body, and food for the soul, Milady. You shouldn't deprive yourself of either."
She offered him a slight murmur, but was already completely distracted by the lines and boughs she was recreating on paper.
