AN: Happy Holidays, everyone! Here's my gift to you – a double update for My Fairytale. As you can no doubt sense, this story is coming to a close, but it won't be an easy one. So I leave you with my gift . . . and a cliffhanger. :-)

Chapter Seventy-Four
(everything is spoken in Elvish)

~ Elessar ~
It was surprisingly easy to find Haldir and Tinúviel, and even easier to see clearly the affection between them.

I set out but half an hour after finishing breakfast, and all around me I could see the wave of Men pouring back into Minas Tirith, reuniting with families and rejoicing the crowning of the King. Elves too celebrated the final bringing of peace and the hope of Men coming together and rebuilding all that had been lost, before slipping quietly away, all leaving to the Grey Havens to pass over to the Undying Lands.

Well, all but a few.

Lord Elrond stayed behind; he would stay for a while yet, to reconcile himself at least in some part to the fact that he would sail without his beloved children.

Arwen would stay behind, of course, and when she died, the last of the Elves would die with her and live on only in faint memory and royal bloodline.

Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond, would remain behind as well, for they had elected to delay their choice.

And, of course, my two objects – Legolas and Haldir – would stay, for the sake of my daughters, if what Lord Elrond, Kiria, and Eldarion had said was true. Somewhere, deep down, I knew they meant us no harm, for I knew without saying that what Kiria had said was true. But I just had to make sure.

And to do that, I had to find Haldir and Legolas first.

No one paid me much attention as I strode through the city, for my hood was raised and my cloak did well to cover me. Besides, I did not carry any markers of allegiance, for only another Dúnadan would have known.

Just as Aragorn did.

"Lord Elessar," he called to me from where he stood arm-in-arm with his wife.

I moved to him and threw back my hood before sweeping a low bow. "Your Majesties," I greeted.

He surprised me by clasping my shoulder, as though we were comrades. "There is no need for titles between us, Lord Elessar," he said gently. "For we are equals, in our own way; both Chieftains of our own."

I held his gaze evenly. "We used to be equals, my Lord," I corrected. "But I am no King. And as one of your subjects, you are due the same respect and recognization as a King, regardless of our connection by blood, faint as it is."

"Aragorn," Arwen interjected softly. "He speaks the truth."

Aragorn withdrew his hand. "Very well, then. It seems I am overruled. . . But nevertheless, formalities shall only hold sway in public, Lord Elessar. In private, blood is blood, and you are one of my family and we shall respect the rules as such. I will not be superior to my own kin."

I bowed again. "As you wish."

Arwen smiled at me, at once a glorious queen and comforting friend. She looked as regal as her father, but it was only then that I could see for sure the connection between her beauty and the beauty of my Tinúviel. There were a few differences, though, for which I was grateful; we did not need a carbon copy of the Evenstar. I could see that the Elven blood was far stronger in Arwen, and thus her appearance was more ethereal than my daughter. But they had the same grace, the same poise, the same lovely smile.

"Welcome to Minas Tirith, Lord Elessar," she said to me, her musical voice ringing in my ears in the most pleasant way. "We are pleased to meet one who carries on our bloodline and whose faith in us has never waved."

"My lady, if there was ever a reason to believe, she now stands before me."

She laughed. "You flatter me, Lord Elessar; your daughter is just as beautiful as I."

"Now you flatter me, my lady."

Arwen laughed again.

"So," Aragorn said, resuming his leisurely stroll, "what brings you outside the Halls of Healing? I presume it is something serious that you must stir against the protests of your family."

"It is precisely for the sake of my family that I stir, Your Majesty."

Aragorn stopped instantly at my words and exchanged a quick concerned look with Arwen. Both of their faces seemed equally concerned and troubled, as if I had just told them someone was planning an assassination attempt or something.

"Of what do you speak?" Arwen asked.

"My daughters. And . . . Legolas and Haldir," I added reluctantly.

Arwen's face clouded even more, but Aragorn only nodded resignedly, as if he had expected it. Perhaps Estel and Eldarion had told him already.

"If you wish to speak to Haldir or Legolas," Aragorn said finally, "Haldir is at the Halls of Healing with Tinúviel, and Legolas is in the Great Hall with Estel."

I bowed again. "Thank you, Your Majesties."

"Lord Elessar?"

Arwen's voice rose in the air behind me, gentle, melodious, but filled with an emotion I couldn't identify.

I half-turned. "Yes?"

"Be careful," was all she said.

~ Haldir ~
"Father? What are you doing here?"

I looked up from my preparation of the herb mixtures to see Tinúviel staring incredulously at the doorway, her own task in preparing the food trays going undone. As I watched, her father stopped before her and graced her with a gentle hug. They spoke briefly before I stepped up next to them.

" – you should rest," Tinúviel was saying in dismay.

Lord Elessar put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes resting on me. "There are things that cannot wait, my child, and this is one of them. Would you mind giving us some . . . privacy?"

Tinúviel hesitated, her eyes flickering between the two of us – both trying to be impassive yet feeling that same nervousness coursing through our veins, both in a staring contest over something that didn't even exist, both trying to prove our strength while acknowledging that we could not afford to permanently offend the other.

Finally, I murmured, "Meleth-nin, please."

Still, she refused to move.

I knew it wasn't that she was being petulant or ridiculous; she was genuinely concerned. After all, she had spoken to me about her father before, and she was genuinely worried for my safety and for her father.

"As you wish," she finally replied reluctantly before slipping away.

We stared in silence for a few long minutes before he finally stirred and said, "So – you know who I am, then?"

I inclined my head slightly. "You are Lord Elessar," I answered. "You are Lady Kiria's husband, Estel and Eldarion and Tinúviel's father, and the Chieftain of the Dúnedain in your day and age. Had things gone the proper course, you would have been the King too."

"And you – you are Haldir of Lórien," he said. "The marchwarden who led the Elves of Lothlórien to aid of Rohan in Helms' Deep. I understand my daughter saved your life there."

"She did."

"And now you have pledged yourself to my other daughter, Tinúviel."

"That is correct."

Lord Elessar gazed at me with an almost weary air. "I am not trying to interrogate you or make you uncomfortable," he said quietly. "But even though I was not a full part of my daughter's upbringing, she is my daughter, and I am responsible to see that she is . . . happy. At least, as much as she can be."

"I understand. I want the same for her."

"Do you?" he asked. "Can you even begin to understand who and what she is?"

"She is my Tinúviel," I said simply. "I love her for who she is, and that is all I need from her in return. . . I do not ask for a dowry, as some Men might, or children, as others might; all I wish for her is that she is happy, and wants for nothing that I can give her." I shifted slightly. "You might disagree, of course. I know she is of a privileged lineage, for few can claim the blood of Beren and Lúthien, much less the Evenstar she bears. But I do not love her for that. If anything, it only makes "

"Hmm." He studied me. "You do not regret staying behind in Middle-earth for her?"

I shook my head. "I belong with her. Middle-earth, Valinor, the Halls of Mandos – I will be where she is, and that is where I belong. Nowhere else."

Lord Elessar sighed and looked away, breaking eye contact for the first time since he had begun speaking. He seemed weary, and not just in body from his torments at Sauron's hand. He was weary in soul, in mind, in heart. There was much he carried on his shoulders.

Then he turned his gaze back to me. "Very well, Haldir. You have convinced me. You . . . have my approval . . . to court Tinúviel, and you need not ask me for her hand, if that is your desire. But make sure that it is what she wants, not just what you wish. You must promise me that, for there is no other way you will be my son-in-law."

"It is an easy price to pay for one such as her. You have my word," I swore. "And should I waver, harden your heart and do not falter in your punishment."

"You're a good person," he murmured. "I think you'll make her happy, Haldir, and that is the best thing I could ask."

"It is the only thing I can only hope I'll give her."

"No, Haldir. I think you already give it to her, every single day."

I sighed. "You were not satisfied with your interrogation of Lord Elrond about me?" I asked, realizing what had prompted this.

Lord Elessar pursued his lips. "Sometimes, you must rely on what your own eyes have seen before you can believe something," he replied. "Especially when it is something as important as one you love."

"And so now you seek Legolas?"

He nodded.

"He is in the Great Hall, I think. Estel exhausted herself tending to the wounded, so he persuaded her to rest."

I saw the alarm on his face.

"He has not touched her," I said quickly, forestalling that outburst.

He relaxed slightly.

"Do you think so little of a Prince of Mirkwood, Lord Elessar?" I chided. "He loves her more than anything else. I do not think he would ever lay a hand on her unless she wished it, even were the whole of Gondor crying for it."

"It is precisely because he is a Prince that I am worried," Lord Elessar retorted.

I sighed. "He is in the Great Hall, then."