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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic, it really lifts my spirits~! You people are awesome! This is also my first fanfic, so it really does make me happy to see a bunch of people interested in this~ :D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the too-awesome-for-words Tolkien universe. I only own my OCs – Lyrial, Thranéal, Aeluin, Arayan, Siraphin, Ciertan, Cierdan, and Eryn. ***

*** Note III – I meant to publish this last weekend, but stuff came up. That, and I kept having to switch the order of events for this one . . . Le sigh~ ***

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~ 002 – Various Conversations ~

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"You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past."

~ Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor

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"Again, mellon nîn!"

"Aeluin!" An ellon groaned, picked up his sword and sheathed it. "You have beaten me three times. I am leaving!"

The icy blue-eyed Sinda prince watched with amusement as his close childhood friend scrunched up his nose, turned and walked.

It was another sunny day, only with a few more clouds in the sky, and a comforting yet slightly chilly breeze in the wind. The leaves on the trees were beginning to look more obvious in their change of colour, and some of them floated gently along the training grounds.

Aeluin snickered. "Ha! Please do remind me why Thranduil made you Captain of the Guard, Arayan! Surely it is not due to incompetence and giving up?"

Arayan's right eye twitched, and he swiftly turned whilst unsheathing his Elven sword, to which Aeluin displayed a cheeky smile. Arayan sighed. "To think that I was actually chosen to be the Captain of the Guard . . ."

The prince laughed. "You looked so ludicrously shocked that day, yet so elated that I thought you might faint!"

"I had always assumed it would have been the army's Captain Siraphin: A close and most trusted friend to the king as they had met in Doriath. A more seasoned warrior and strategist than I . . . He is, in general, more experienced at everything in life than I –"

"Indeed so," Aeluin interrupted the other's rambling. "Yet you worked your hardest for this position; and as your friend, I couldn't be more proud."

Arayan rose a brow; amused. "Oh? Are you actually being nice to me for once?"

The royal procured a low and almost mischievous whistle. "Mayyyyyyybe . . . Besides, Siraphin was already chosen to be General Himelon's successor should he die. Even if you did not perform to your utmost capabilities, you probably would still gain the position."

Arayan smirked good-naturedly. "'Probably.' There was still that slight chance that Siraphin would have been made Captain of the Guard by default, as well as being our general's successor. I merely desired to prove that I was worthy of such an esteemed rank and its' responsibilities."

"And you were rather adorable when doing said proving."

The captain rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up." He rose his elven blade, and a smirking Aeluin mirrored his action.

An uplifting call of "Suil!" halted the beginnings of their fourth sparring match, and a smiling Thranéal sporting an emerald and ivory white dress came into view.

"Ae, muinthel!" Aeluin greeted and sheathed his sword. He walked up to his sister and gave her a hug, and she returned it.

Arayan sheathed his sword and continued in Aeluin's place with a soft smile. "We wanted to greet you yesterday, but you were occupied . . ."

Thranéal released her hug, walked over to Arayan, and gave him a short hug. "I apologize. It was late and Thranduil had put me in a sour mood."

Aeluin piped up. "Regarding that elleth? 'Lyrial' is her name, correct?"

Thranéal turned to face her brother and rose a brow. "Yes. I was not aware that you were present."

"I was observing from the back of the room. That elleth is quite the attractive sight."

Both princess and friend deadpanned at the prince. "Aeluin Oropherion, no flirting!"

Said ellon cringed at their reaction. "I was not planning on it." Ha, it is worth a try, though.

"I have heard some servants and many of my new recruits speaking ill of her," Arayan spoke up and ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair. "Word gets out fast and it is quite displeasing to hear those words."

Thranéal widened her eyes in surprise and scoffed. "I have as well! From servants, healers, guards, soldiers and even the advisors. The nobility probably know of this as well. I tell them to shut their mouths. They do but continue when they think I am out of hearing range. It is quite infuriating!"

"This would not have happened if Thranduil had not said what he had said," Aeluin mentioned. "By the way, did you have plans on visiting her? I want to come when you do."

"I was planning on doing so after greeting you two," Thranéal answered. "And yes, you may come, but do not do or say anything stupid. Flirting is an example."

Arayan stifled a laugh and Aeluin glared at him, to which the captain gave off an innocent smile.

"Arayan," Thranéal began, "do you want to accompany us?"

"I would if I did not have to train some new recruits," Arayan responded. "But I shall walk with you until we pass the barracks."

And so they walked a steady pace with Thranéal in between both ellyn. There were a few other ellyn and ellith within the training grounds honing their skills with their elvish weapons, and had either bowed or nodded their heads in acknowledgment as the captain and two elven-royals passed by.

"How are your recruits, Arayan?" Thranéal questioned. "I want to watch them some time."

The emerald-eyed captain answered: "They are a promising bunch consisting of twenty ellyn and five ellith, and are currently being put through stamina and endurance tests. Although, the ellith of this group are quite fierce . . ."

Aeluin then spoke up with humor in his voice. "I swear it is like they compete against each other as ellyn against ellith! It is quite amusing. Especially when many of those ellyn become fearful of the ellith's fierceness."

"It is!" Arayan gave a short laugh. "There is this one young elleth within the group who has recently came of age. Her name is Tauriel and she puts many in that group to shame."

Thranéal smiled. "Ah, that is pleasing to hear. I should like to meet her someday." Her smile then turned into a playful smirk. "I am suddenly reminded of the time I put Aeluin to shame with everything."

The Sinda prince glared at his sister but decided to return the smirk. So this is how you want to play. "Dear Thranéal, I was but an elfing by then. As soon as I turned of age, I began putting you to shame in some areas."

"Some areas. My skills with a blade still places yours to shame."

"My skills with a bow, however, places yours to shame."

"My skills in the arts of healing places yours to shame."

"My skills as a rider places yours to shame."

"I am a much more effective negotiator."

"I can shoot a target to my back without having to look at it."

Arayan had been smirking in amusement as his emerald eyes darted from one to another as they said their bits, and piped up, "I think it is safe to assume that my maturity places both of yours to shame."

The siblings mock-glared at the captain, and had given off a short laugh as Arayan procured yet another seemingly innocent smile.

The barracks came into sight, as did a group of young elves wearing their simple training clothes of white tunics, burgundy breeches and dark brown boots. With a short exchange of "Na lû, mellyn nîn!" Arayan made way towards his recruits.

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The elven-siblings strolled through a long, neatly carved white-stoned and open-arched hallway that led to the palace. A few blue jays chirped and flew in and out of the hallway, their glossy blue feathers shining in the sunlight. One landed on Thranéal's left shoulder, and she spoke soothing Elvish to it while gently patting its' delicate head.

"Thranéal, how was Imladris?" The elleth glanced at Aeluin's side profile and noticed mischief in his eye.

She, however, ignored that and responded rather enthusiastically, "It was absolutely splendid, as per usual!"

"Do tell." He was egging her on for something.

"Such fun elves they are! Oooooh, and –" The princess droned on about Celebrian's storytellings of Elrond's embarrassing moments. And something about Lindir getting chased by a herd of bunnies . . . But Aeluin was focused on a particular name she has yet to mention, to tease his older sister with.

"And how goes the Balrog Slayer?" Aeluin had asked this with a straight face, yet trying desperately to hold back an amused smile. He did smirk, however, when Thranéal blushed slightly. Oh, spot on, Aeluin! You cannot hide that barely recognizable blush from me, dear sister!

Thranéal became annoyed by her brother. "Aeluin, cease your immaturity! We are only friends!" Due to her shouting, the blue jay flew from her shoulder, joining its kind in the skies.

Aeluin stated with a smile: "You love him."

"As a dear and close friend! If I recall, I think he is my closest male friend . . ."

"You love him. I have seen the way you look at him."

"I mean he was always there for me when I was in sorrow . . ."

"You love him."

"He helped me train to become one of the best elven sword-wielders in Arda . . . "

"You love him."

"He is very good company and a pleasingly enjoyable ellon . . ."

"You. Love. Him."

"Valar, Aeluin! Are you even listening?"

He masked his smile with a mock-sincere expression. "Of course I am. And I can conclude the following: You are in love with Glorfindel." He then broke out in a light-hearted expression.

Thranéal sighed. "If I admit the truth, will you cease the teasing?"

"Yes."

"Lies! You forget, I know you too well."

Damn . . . "I will not tease you when others are in hearing range, then."

She glared at him, but then looked straight ahead with a serene expression, and had felt calm all of a sudden. "Fair enough. I do, indeed, love Glorfindel."

She felt strong arms wrap around her left side in a comfortable brotherly hug, and she smiled softly as her younger brother's forehead came resting at the side of her head. Thranéal rose her right hand and gently patted the ellon's head. "I missed it when you were shorter," She mused.

"Muinthel; although I am displaying sincere affections towards you, I am rarely truly sincere. So remember this moment, because as of right now, I think that feeling is leaving me to tease you again."

Thranéal giggled and lightly smacked Aeluin's head, to which he detached from her and gave a pout on his attractive features.

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It was still cold.

And it was still dark.

Save for a few rays of sunlight outside of her cell.

Prisons located in caves did not help with determining the time of day either.

Lyrial emptied the contents of her water-glass and placed it on her emptied food tray. She stood up to stretch her legs and paced a bit to transfer the feeling back into them. She then stood leaning against the hard stone wall close to the cell door and stared out of it. There was nothing interesting she could really look at; the guards' backs were to her, and the opposite wall consisted of more stone and prison cells. At least my period came and went before I ended up here. That would've been awkward. I wonder, what do ellith do when they get their period? Is it different from a human woman's period? Are there some sort of make-shift pads? I highly doubt they have anything of a make-shift tampon . . . I really want to know. Why do I really want to know?

The elleth contemplated menstrual cycles in Middle-Earth for an additional ten minutes, but it felt like twenty. She has not even been in this cell for twenty-four hours, and yet it felt like a week to her. She thought that last night's cold would give her a fever or something, but apparently being an elf prevented that.

Lyrial turned her head to the darker-haired ellon. "Excuse me? How late into the day is it?"

"Not late at all, actually," He responded and turned halfway to her. "It is about early afternoon."

She thanked him and he offered her a small smile. "When do you think the ass – I mean, king, will release me?"

"That I cannot say," The elf turned to her fully. "But I hope it is soon. It is quite infuriating to be wrongfully imprisoned."

"So you don't think I'm lying, or an enemy spy?" Lyrial had asked this hopefully and the ellon just nodded his response.

"Muindor, why do you believe her?" The lighter-haired guard spun to face the other and Lyrial gasped, for they looked exactly the same. They had the same height, the same slim yet toned bodies, the same youthfully attractive facial features, and even the same jade green eyes. She was glad that their hair made it quite obvious to tell them apart: One had straight, gorgeous platinum white hair that seemed as a halo in the dark; and the other had straight, luscious raven black hair that looked really shiny. The platinum white-haired ellon continued. "You should not speak with her. She will only continue with her lies!"

The other glowered at his younger twin brother. "She has not spoken any lie thus far. Do not assume such things. And, I will speak to her when I want too." The younger twin scowled at Lyrial and abruptly turned to his original guarding position.

The older twin gave the elleth an apologetic look. "I apologize for my brother's behavior."

"No worries." Lyrial had said this with her eyes casted to the stone floor. She did not understand Sindarin as of yet, but the younger twin's tone and expression had said it all. She then yawned and looked back up, and decided to ignore the younger twin. The older twin was courteous enough. She gave a small smile. "You seem like someone I can get along with splendidly. Can we be friends?"

The younger twin whipped his head to Lyrial in anger-shock, then to his older brother, but quickly recomposed himself and turned his head straight ahead with an unreadable expression. The older twin, however, smiled. "That was random. Anyways, I wanted to inquire the same! My name is Cierdan, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lyrial."

"Likewise!"

"My brother is Ciertan, but ignore that grumpy elf. Will you please tell me about this world you are from?"

So 'Dan' is Mr. Friendly, and 'Tan' is Mr. Grumpy . . . Lyrial was surprised that he actually wanted to know, and then was pleased. "Alrighty, then! The world I come from, 'Earth,' is divided into seven continents, large land masses of different regions of cultures and varieties of humans, their languages, and animals. Within these continents are many countries. I was born and raised on the continent of 'North America,' specifically in the country known as 'Canada,' and –" Cierdan listened with curious interest as Lyrial explained the concept of country borders and government systems on Earth, like democracies and authoritarians, and how most of the countries do not have a full monarchy. The ellon asked about the countries with a monarch, to which she responded by stating that the monarch would then not have full power. She gave her home country as an example; mentioning the Queen as a figurehead, governing power lasting within the Prime Minister and Parliament; yet the county's people having the 'actual power.' She told of the sky-high buildings and of cars as well.

"And I shall stop here for now."

Cierdan looked at her with sparkling jade green eyes. "That was fairly interesting, and unlike anything I have heard. Do you miss your home world?"

Lyrial smiled at first, then dropped it. "There are many aspects of it that I miss . . ." I shall later tell you of the wonders of chocolate and electricity. ". . . But in all honesty, I'd rather be here in this new life. Even if I'm currently in prison."

Cierdan did not ask why and Lyrial was thankful, for she was not comfortable with sharing her past. Her legs became tired from standing so she slid down, her back still against the hard wall. A short minute later, she heard loud talking in Sindarin as an elf-guard came into view, who soon left with Ciertan right behind him. Cierdan turned to Lyrial. "We shall be leaving you alone for the next three hours."

She looked at him. "Alrighty then. Until later?"

"Until later." Cierdan turned on his heel and was out of sight.

Lyrial let her eyelids close around her amethyst orbs. She took calming breaths and relaxed her mind. I want to get out. I need to. But where do I go . . . ?

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"Her hair looks quite soft. I want to touch it."

"Oh, good Valar. Aeluin, be quite."

The voices startled Lyrial, as she was unable to hear the accompanied footsteps. She had, although, recognized the second voice, and stood to her feet with a grin. "Princess Thranéal! I missed you . . ."

Thranéal returned her smile. "Just 'Thranéal' is fine. It is pleasing to see you again. I apologize for these unfavorable circumstances."

Lyrial briefly waved her hands in front of her. "Oh, no, don't apologize! What's done is done, and I thank you for the help you've given me."

"I just did not want you to come across something unsavory in an unknown world with no means of protection," the princess responded, thinking of orcs. "Anyways, this is Aeluin, mine and Thranduil's younger brother. He wanted to accompany me and formally meet you."

Lyrial's eyes met the ellon's, as he had been gazing at her curiously. She managed a small smile, "Hello," and shyly looked away. What if he's more like the twig king?

"Hello to you too," Aeluin greeted. "Please do not be shy, I am not here to secretly mock and berate you. I want to get to know you, and I will not judge you, lirimaer." Ha, yeah, that's what they all say. Although his eyes speak the truth. Thranéal and Cierdan were nice . . . Meh, I'll give him a chance.

Lyrial's eyes met his again, but cocked her head to the side. "'Lirimaer?' What does that mean?"

Thranéal rolled her eyes at her brother's barely recognizable attempt at flirting with the use of that word.

He, however, smirked. "Not telling. You will have to find that out on your own."

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"THRANDUIL!"

Thranéal barged into her brother's chambers with mixed emotions of fury and worry. She found Thranduil lying on his large bed and reading through a parchment containing a report of the border control. His crown was off and lying on the edge of his bed; his straight, soft flowing hair in somewhat disarray; his forest green tunic unbuttoned at the top, exposing a part of the Sinda's toned chest.

The Elvenking lazily rose to a sitting position with his legs draped over the side of his bed. "Thranéal, please knock. And why are you shouting?"

Thranéal ignored his question, stood in front of him, and spoke: "It has come to my just recent attention, through Aeluin's slip of speech, of a resumption of assassination attempts. Why did you not tell me?"

Thranduil ran a hand through his hair, freeing it from its disarray. "Through actions, you have made it clear that you were angry with me, and did not want to be in the same room as me. I only wanted to respect that."

She crossed her arms. "To make that clear: I was, and still am, not angry at you, but at your actions regarding Lyrial. I avoided you so as to not unpredictably lash out at you. Despite that, you could have told me!"

He abruptly stood from his bed and fixed his sister a glare of mixed emotions. "I do not want you to get involved! I will not have you, nor any other elf, acquire injuries from an attack meant for me. Although I seem to have failed regarding those last few words . . ."

"It is not your fault that a few of the guards were killed in the process. They were honourable ellyn who –"

The Elvenking fixed her a bitter half-smile before smoothly interrupting her. "Who were given a swift death before they could even fathom what was happening."

Thranduil re-buttoned his tunic, picked up the briefly discarded parchment from his bed, and left his room.

Thranéal could have sworn she saw a healing sword-wound that stretched from under Thranduil's right jaw to the base of his neck.

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A few days became a week and Lyrial remained in her cell throughout the time.

She would enjoy conversations with Cierdan, albeit having to ignore Ciertan's brief insults and glares. Thranéal and Aeluin would visit her, to which she found their company delightful. At times they would teach her a little Sindarin here and there. As she was now an elf, Lyrial felt pleasure in learning the elegant language, even if it was just a few words and phrases. When she was left alone; the amethyst-eyed elleth slept or sat staring at the not-so-interesting scenery of her cell, thinking of various things, or nothing at all.

On the second day of her visit, Thranéal had been kind enough to bring a couple of blankets and a pillow for Lyrial's comfort. Lyrial felt dirty, as she had not bathed within the week and had still wore the thin white dress. She was uncomfortably sticky, more so in certain areas, and her scalp was itchy. The elleth was, however, more than relieved when Cierdan offered to take her to a toilet room located somewhere within the dungeons whenever she had to do her business. Oh, bless that elf.

Thranduil had yet to request for her presence. Lyrial needed some way to persuade him to let her go. I may, although, end up yelling at him . . .

However; it was during the night of her eighth day in her cell that brought about her involvement in external affairs, leading to her release from the dungeons.

Lyrial had been on the verge of sleep when she heard the following:

". . . kill . . ."

"Thranduil . . ."

". . . hour after the midday meal . . ."

". . . poisoned arrow."

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Mellon Nîn – My Friend

Suil – Greetings

Ae – Hello

Muinthel – Sister (Family)

Muindor – Brother (Family)

Na Lû – Until Later

Naneth – Mother

Lirimaer – Lovely One

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