Hi guys! I've managed to get this chapter up almost on time, because my horrible paper turned out easier to write than I expected, once I was actually ready to write it (going through research takes forever, and hardly seems worth it from a paper point of view).

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

LJP: I think there are around 16-17 total, so not that many, compared to most of my stories. She's pretty much mature enough, now, they just have to deal with a few things...

moonshine44(and anyone else who didn't read the earlier stories and finds themselves confused): Sorry about that. I kind of expected this would mostly interest only those who came because they liked The Worry Stone and The Keeper of the Stone and so came here. To sum those up far too briefly: Lunian was a half-elven mortal woman (able to sense the emotions of those around her) living in Imladris whom Legolas fell in love with. She was the daughter of the elf Elrohir loved, and so she was raised by him until he and most of Imladris went west, when she traveled to Mirkwood.When she died, he and Gimli wandered Middle-Earth for a while before heading west. In the second story, Lunian (having been reborn) remembers (slowly) her past life. This story is here mostly because of bits of chapters 27, 32 & 33 of the Keeper of the Stone, more specifically, the interaction between anupset Carathwan and a slightly calmer Glorfindel.

Awesome: I just have to ask... are you by any chance Tolkien's reincarnation? Because if not, I'm keeping my elves with their nicknames. I've read a lot of stories with nicknames, and I really don't think that children would always use the long-winded names given to them by their parents, especially when alone together. Some of the nicknames even an anti-nickname person gets stuck with here, anyway, because they came from Lunian's human childhood, where she couldn't always pronounce the elvish names. As for this being a Sue... No one has EVER been able to give ma a definition of what a Mary-Sue actually consists of. It seems to be something of an air-headed rabid fangirl who can just magically do everything and people fall in love with her left and right. So, thanks for the lovely compliment. As for my writing being decent. Gee. Thanks. I've had things published in various places--this is my way to relax. I post my stories because sometimes other people like what I write. As for me continuing to write: I always finish what I begin posting. I despise getting into a story only to have it suddenly die. I will most likely be writing (though not fanfiction) until I either die or have a stroke that affects one of the aphasia centers of the brain.

sharon: Yay! You're seeing exactly what you're supposed to be seeing. It's been kind of subtle, I know, which is why it's so nice to hear someone has picked up on it! (and cared enough to let me know that they had.)

Iluvenis: I've tried to find a happy medium between the two, and I just can't seem to. So, you're stuck with whatever comes about. There will be more of Legolas and Lunian, though the story focuses on Glorfindel and Carathwan.

Laurenke1: When I got your review I went back and glanced over previous chapters. Basically, they're already married-- Lunian calls him her husband, Ethwan calls her a princess instead of a lady...

Chapter 7 Trying to learn

Alothie looked up with wide eyes, her ears flushing with pleasure when Carathwan nodded in approval. "It's easier with you teaching me," she admitted.

"Well, I'm not only better than Ethwan, I'm female. We do things just slightly different."

Alothie shook her head. "Sometimes, very different."

Carathwan smiled faintly.

"Sorry," Alothie murmured, looking away.

"Not your doing," Carathwan dismissed.

"But I still—"

"No. It's not your doing. It's his fault."

Alothie tilted her head slightly, her eyes growing sad. "You shouldn't let this stand between you forever, Carathwan."

"How can he expect me to chose between one sibling and another?" She shook her head slightly, getting to her feet. "You're doing very well," she praised quietly, picking up her book. She walked past Legolas and Lunian, who were calling light banter over the soft sound of their practice.

"Cara!" Lunian called, putting her bow aside to follow. "Cara, please talk to—"

"He can talk to me," she stated shortly, before closing her eyes on a sigh, turning to face Lunian. "I don't mean to snap. But it is his place to mend this breech."

"You could do it, too," Lunian murmured quietly.

Carathwan considered that for a long moment, and then shook her head. "I always have in the past, Lunian, and I know what would happen if I did so this time. I can't allow that this time." She smiled faintly at her friend. "Go back to your practice, Lunian. You two have to win the trials, right?"

Lunian wasn't fooled, of course, but let her go, traveling back into the long building.

Carathwan headed for the library, almost changing her mind when she saw who was there.

Glorfindel looked up from his book, inclined his head slightly to her, and went back to the page.

Ethwan glared at her for a moment, then lifted his chin. "Have something to say to me?" he asked.

If she tried to mend this as she had in the past, she would come away the loser. Every time she broke first, he became a little more arrogant, a little more sure of her—of her inability to remain mad at him no matter what he did. "Not a thing," she denied quietly, looking up at the shelf that had held the book she'd finished. "Glorfindel?"

"Yes, Carathwan?" he asked, looking up once more.

"Are there any good books about Gondolin?"

His eyes clouded slightly. "I'm sure there are, but I've not read any."

She looked at the book he held, and smiled faintly. "An adventure novel?" she asked, teasingly. "Haven't you had enough of that in your lives?"

He quirked a faint smile, and partially shrugged. "When it isn't real it's easy to deal with. The elf who wrote this never saw battle, and was more interested in how people or peoples interacted. It is an interesting insight into the workings of the heart and mind."

"Is it really, or is that just the excuse you give yourself?"

His smile grew faintly. "Elrond once asked me that."

"Did you answer him, or evade the question as you are so fond of doing to me?"

He chuckled softly. "I think we were interrupted by Estel's arrival. At any rate, it doesn't really matter, as my excuse could work just as well for you, should you care to employ it."

"Why would I?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

He lifted a brow. "You were asking me for a recommendation, were you not?"

"Well, I…"

"Give it a try," he murmured, closing the book, holding it out.

"But you're in the middle of it."

"I've read it several times, Carathwan."

"So it must be very… insightful."

He smiled at her tease, but shrugged gracefully, settling back in his chair when she took the book, tracing the words on the cover with a slow finger. "What is it?" he asked with a slight frown.

"I've been reading about the other places for so long… I can't remember the last time I read something like this."

His bright eyes watched her for a long moment, before closing as he tilted his head back, eyes made into hollows by the shadows cast by the dim candlelight. Those same shadows clung to his cheeks, giving his face a skull-like appearance that frightened her a little. "Then it is high time you did so. The architecture of Gondolin, Imladris, Eryn Lasgalen, or Lothlorien do you no good here."

"And reading a story of fiction may?" she countered.

He righted his head, his features elven once more. "You can learn much by seeing through the eyes of others."

She shook her head slightly. "I have been trying."

"Too hard," he murmured.

She looked at him silently for a long moment, trying to read his eyes to no avail. For the first time she wished to know what he was feeling as Lunian would know. "Tell me," she murmured at length. "Will this book open those which are closed?"

His eyes widened, and he blinked in shock. Then he snorted a short laugh. "Carathwan, books that have been closed for millennia are destroyed upon opening."

"Unless they've been rewritten," she countered softly.

He shook his head slightly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"But I am trying to learn."

A faint smile touched his lips for her earnest response. "But you haven't managed yet."

"And when I have?"

"Then, you will have no need to ask," he murmured softly, before stretching out his arm, pulling another book from the shelf.

It was by the same author. "Like her stories, do you?"

He quirked a brow. "Give it a try," he coaxed softly. "You might like them as well."

She looked down at the book, and finally nodded. "Have you decided if you will enter the trials?"

"No."

"No, you haven't decided, or no, you're not entering the trials?"

"No, I haven't fully decided. If I don't enter that's one less serious competitor against Lunian."

"She would not have anyone fail to compete for such a reason as that," Lunian protested.

He smiled faintly. "I know. But it is still fact."

"But you enjoy fiction."

He quirked a brow, and blinked. "I honestly don't know what to do with that."

She rolled her eyes. "Lunian would not want to win because you didn't enter." Then she smirked. "She would much rather win in spite of you entering."

He chuckled softly. "Do you think she could stand against me?"

"No. But Legolas can, and ever stands with her."

He smiled slightly, and inclined his head, accepting her statement.

"So?"

He lifted a brow.

She rolled her eyes again. "Are you going to compete?"

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Because I've been sent to spy on the competition, of course," she retorted dryly.

"Well, in that case…" A small line appeared between his brows as he thought. "I suppose I may as well," he declared at last.

"Good. Go tell Orthalen before he declares the slots filled."

"If they're filled, they're filled," he replied wryly.

"Yes, but if you tell him before they're filled, you'll have a place."

"That goes without saying."

"Then why did you make me say it?" she asked.

"I doubt very much that anyone could make you say anything."

Her eyes fell from his and she stared blindly at the shelves. "I don't."

He frowned slightly. "Carathwan?"

She took a moment for silence, then shook herself, smiling faintly at him. "I'll give the book a try… but I plan to study it carefully."

"Why should you 'study' it at all?"

"To find out if there really is anything of intrinsic value between the pages, or if you like reading these books just to be reading something light and fluffy."

"Light and fluffy?" he asked, brows lifting. "You'll revise your opinion of that quite quickly, especially with that particular one."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm. Four rather gory deaths in the first ten pages. Not at some point in those ten pages, but during those ten pages."

She swallowed. "She describes people dying for ten pages?"

"Or more," he smirked.

She glanced warily at the book. "I thought you said she hadn't seen battle?"

"She hasn't."

"Then…"

"There is a difference between seeing battle, and seeing death, Carathwan, though for her writing I don't make such a distinction."

"Why would you want to read such? Haven't you seen enough of it?"

"Read it, Carathwan, and see if you can figure the answer out yourself," he murmured softly, opening the book he'd retrieved to the first page. "Well?"

"Well, I'm waiting for you to go to Orthalen."

He rolled his head back with a groan. "Persistent creature."

"And you aren't?"

He chuckled softly, but got to his feet, guiding her out with a whisper of touch at the small of her back. If he noted that she didn't look in Ethwan's direction, he didn't say anything.