Alright, another chapter is here... maybe not quite what you were looking for, though. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Iluvenis: Well, to put it simply, he's interested in her. And she doesn't wonder about it because she knows. Clear things up? ;-)

Eyes of Sky: The book really doesn't matter. It's just something she was holding while she thought so she could think without being interrupted. Okay, just noticed you were the next reviewer, too. The about what is simple. Or really, about who (who? whom? I never know when to use whom over who).

Animir: Yes, overall is a word. I reread the chapter and you're right--a lot more dialog than usual. I am trying a slightly different style of writing in this story, and that kind of factors in.

Chapter 5 Shooting Ladan

Irithil sighed. "Go on," he muttered.

Ethwan looked up. "Huh?"

"He told you to go," Carathwan murmured quietly.

"Why?" Ethwan frowned. "You two don't want me anymore?" he pouted.

They rolled their eyes at him, making him frown once more.

"For all that you have my hair, Cara," he muttered, "you're more like Irithil."

"The eyes are closer to the heart than the hair," she murmured, making Irithil smirk. Then she snorted. "Besides, I have Mother's hair, not yours."

"And Father's eyes," he murmured. "While I'm the reverse."

"Mm-hmm. And Irithil is just a copy of Father."

They all snorted at that.

Ethwan looked back at them after a moment spent gazing at the water. "Why did you tell me to go?" he asked at last.

"Because you aren't here, anyway," Irithil murmured. "Or you weren't."

"What?"

"You were with her, Ethwan, and we know it."

He lifted a brow, before shrugging with a slightly sheepish smile. "Well, I certainly won't deny it."

"Ah," Irithil murmured. "Look at that, little sister—an honest cad."

"I'm not a cad," Ethwan muttered, affronted.

"Just one of those eternally bachelor elves who shall never settle down, no matter how many elves you happen to flatter into your bed." Carathwan looked up at him for a moment from the flower she was drawing patterns on with her finger.

He frowned at her, faint distress in his eyes. "Do you really see me like that?"

"Yes. As Elladan, actually."

"Ah," Irithil murmured, smiling. "So you haven't seen him recently, have you?"

"Not since… oh, bother. When was that family gathering Elrond commanded?"

"Three months ago, Cara. You're behind. He's utterly besotted with one of the Mirkwood elves."

"Greenwood, you mean?"

"No," he denied, smiling impishly. "She insists it's Mirkwood—because that's what it was when she came here. One of Prince Legolas's old friends, I think… before the War of the Ring, if I'm right."

"So the old flirt finally found someone to hold him down?" she asked, smiling crookedly at the thought.

"Pin him down, is what I heard."

She laughed. "Thil, I'm the she-elf here… isn't it my place to know the gossip?"

He shrugged after giving up on feigning affront. "I just keep my ears open, baby sister."

"And eyes, if you've seen him. I certainly haven't, and he is Lunian's favorite uncle."

"Only because she only has one uncle."

Carathwan shrugged. "Are you going to leave, Ethwan, or sit there looking impatient all day?"

"When the conversation is just now getting interesting?" he asked, looking up at Irithil. "Have you seen him?"

"Yes, but only for a few minutes. He's apparently spending most of his time over there, now."

"It's not that far a walk," Carathwan murmured. "After all, Lunian and Legolas travel it practically daily."

"I heard my name," a voice rang out. Lunian appeared between the trees with a smile, until she saw the three sprawled out around the remains of lunch. "Oh… I'll see you for dinner."

"Naw, come on and join us," Ethwan murmured.

"But this is—"

"Yeah, but come on. You're practically a sister, anyway," Irithil agreed.

"And it's not like this is the first 'sibling lunch' you'll have been at," Carathwan added.

With a laugh Lunian gave in, folding her legs beneath her. "What did I interrupt?"

"Discussing Elladan, actually, and Ethwan's likeness to him."

Lunian chuckled low in her throat and lifted her chin, letting the sun tint her entire face with light. "Ah, dear Ladan," she murmured, still decidedly amused. "What about him?"

"You could probably tell us better than he could," Carathwan murmured.

"Hmm," she agreed. "But isn't that something like showing you his underwear… with him in it?"

"What?" Ethwan asked, brows screwed up.

Carathwan giggled at him, but nodded slightly at Lunian. "But you've likely seen more of him than we have. In fact, I'd be quite surprised if you hadn't seen him."

"I've not seen much of him, actually," she admitted. Her lips turned up in a wicked smile. "He's been a bit… busy."

"Oh!" Carathwan sat up, drawing her knees under her. "What's she like?"

Lunian lifted a brow. "Someone's been talking."

"Obviously," Ethwan countered. "As that's what you walked in on."

"Doesn't walking in on something imply there is somewhere to walk in?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Enough," he sighed, chuckling softly. "Irithil is the local gossip gatherer."

Lunian quirked a brow at Irithil. "Oh?"

He shrugged. "Rumor has it that he's been spending a lot of time with a Mirkwood elf… and is somewhat enamored of her."

She smiled faintly, but shook her head. "He is very interested, but not yet enamored. As for her…" she laughed. "He has his work cut out for him."

"Why is he bothering, then? He tends to be interested in the mild challenges."

"Usually," Lunian agreed. "But she caught his attention so spectacularly that he isn't thinking rationally. He wants to know more, and doesn't really care that it isn't like him. I doubt he even thinks about it like that."

"Like what?"

"As a conquest," Lunian answered, her nose wrinkling at the term. "She interests him greatly, and though to say he isn't aware of her in such a way as he is usually interested in she-elves would be extraordinarily naïve, he isn't…" she sighed, frowning. "He isn't maneuvering her, isn't playing her. He is being genuine with her, trying to befriend her, to learn about her… though his past is working against him greatly, as she is so cautious even in shooting with him."

"Shooting?" Ethwan asked softly.

Lunian laughed. "Yes. That's how they met, actually. She shot him."

"What?"

She laughed again. "Just as I did, only instead of the calf, she caught his shoulder." She smiled crookedly, and shook her head. "I have to wonder if he yowled half as loudly as he did when I shot him."

"Lunian, when did you… oh. Before?"

She nodded. "Yes. Long—at least in a human life-time—before the war. I wasn't even fourteen."

"Why was he trying to teach you so young?"

"Father wanted me to be able to defend myself," she explained softly. "It was something most learned at least a little of. After I shot Ladan, Estel began teaching me swordplay when he was home."

Ethwan shook his head slightly, and looked slightly away.

Lunian sighed. "Ethwan… please stop doing that."

"Doing what?" he asked, glancing back.

"You can't deny I was once human, once lived on the other shores. I cannot deny it—I am not who I was, and never will be again."

"It was a short time."

"But it was very important, and filled with love and laughter, pain and torment. I lived more there than I did here, really."

Ethwan looked away, still not agreeing, which made Lunian sigh softly, shaking her head.

Carathwan studied her for a moment. "Glorfindel said you were adult well before you were even thirty."

Lunian grimaced. "Yes."

Carathwan's eyes narrowed slightly on her. "How old were you?"

"Twenty," Lunian admitted after a sigh.

"Twenty? Twenty?"

Lunian nodded. "I was mortal, Cara," she reminded. "Women of my age usually had a few children by then."

"But women of your age weren't usually half-elven, raised among elves."

"True," she admitted. "And they didn't usually have to deal with the despondency of fading powers," she added dryly.

"What?"

"It was not… pleasant in Imladris when Arwen refused to go west. It took Elrond weeks to talk to her. He seemed rather defeated after she and Estel wed, never quite the same. Even now, he isn't as he was before she chose mortality." She frowned slightly, and nibbled her lower lip.

"Careful," Carathwan murmured dryly. When Lunian glanced up, Carathwan smiled. "You might call Legolas to you."

Lunian smiled faintly, shaking her head. "No. He's already made sure I'm alright."

"What?" Irithil asked.

"You can talk to each other with your minds?" Ethwan asked.

"Of course," she agreed. "Even when I was human, there was something of a bond between us. We could always find each other… and he could occasionally pick up on my emotions. That's far stronger now, of course."

"Oh, of course," Ethwan agreed, rolling his eyes.

Lunian laughed, sobering as she stared blindly into the wood. She smiled faintly. "I've thought of something I should really be doing, so if you would excuse me?"

Carathwan frowned as Lunian left, then got to her feet and trotted after her. "Lunian?"

"Grandmother and Grandfather are having a celebration in a few weeks."

"And?"

"And I think it might be nice for them to have the book then."

Carathwan frowned for a moment, before her eyes widened. "Oh."

"Yes, oh," Lunian agreed.

"But… are you done?"

"Not in the least… and I would like to give it to my parents, as well, as they didn't see much of my past life."

"So you're going to redraw a lot of it?"

"Not all that much, Cara. I can leave the more intimate pictures of Legolas out, for the most part, though it would be a glaring omission to discard him entirely."

"I'm sure he would agree," Carathwan laughed softly.

Lunian chuckled. "Yes."

Carathwan tilted her head as she followed Lunian into her old room. It was mostly unchanged, except for the quiver by the door, the rack that held bows, a Mirkwood inspired tapestry over the fireplace. There was also a pair of leggings tossed on the bed, which wasn't made, the covers piled in the middle in a haphazard heap.

Against one wall were the boxes of drawings Lunian had made when she was still trying to remember her past life.

With a faint snort, Carathwan shook her head. "How can I help?"