Approx 751 (S.A.) the Greenwood:

Sídhiel had always been the patient sort, willing to wait out the tempers of others and bend with the winds. She knew that if she was patient, she was persistent, eventually everything would turn out the way it was supposed to - and more often than not, in her favour. Her sister, however...

Just as their father had been, Óleth was strong-willed, fierce tempered and not shy in the slightest about making her opinion known. Not that Sídhiel was not equally confident in making her opinions known, she was just...gentler about it. There was no sense in alienating those they had to live with. But Óleth did not see things that way, or if she did she simply did not care. Of course, that usually left Sídhiel attempting to soothe hurt feelings and rankled pride of those unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of Óleth's sharp tongue. She had plenty of practice at it by the time they were adults, and more besides when they'd decided to remain in the same lumornoss together, instead of joining separate ones.

Although, normally, she was not the one being berated. That was taking a lot more getting used to.

Sídhiel bit back the urge to sigh, knowing it would only bring up questions she did not wish to answer. The rest of their lumornoss was in good spirits, chatting and relaxing, or making plans for the summer meets. But not her sister; Óleth had been in a foul mood for the last week, as she had been ever since that day she and Thranduil had accidentally crossed paths when Sídhiel had taken him around the forest. And that meant that Sídhiel was not allowed to be in a good mood either, or risk further admonishment for not taking Óleth's opinions seriously enough.

In this instance, however, Sídhiel could not bring herself to heed Óleth's advice. No matter what Óleth claimed to have seen or felt, Sídhiel did not accept that the Sindar Elves were dangerous. They were refugees fleeing their war-torn homeland, betrayed by Elves and allies alike. That did not make them a threat to the Elves of Greenwood - and certainly, Sídhiel did not feel any kind of threat from the young Prince Thranduil. He had only ever been polite and charming towards her, troubled by concerns for his people and their future. Óleth, she maintained, was simply being paranoid.

Green eyes flashed in her direction, dark with temper, almost as if she had caught the edges of Sídhiel's thoughts, so she smiled back, deliberately cheerful. She set her shoulders and marched over to where Óleth was ferociously attempting to repair one of her tunics and only succeeding in creating larger holes than before. Honestly, it was almost as if she'd never paid any attention to any of their lessons as elflings.

"Come, sister. Lets go for a walk, you and I." Sídhiel grinned, projecting as much challenge into that smile as she could. "I bet I can still outrace you to the river."

Repairs forgotten in the face of a contest, Óleth was on her feet in a flash. "You've only won once, little sister. By cheating."

Sídhiel flicked her ears in mock outrage. "Me? Cheat? You wound me!" And with that, she gave Óleth a small playful shove, and bolted in the opposite direction, bare feet digging into the soft dark earth. Behind her, she heard Óleth give a cry of indignation and come charging after her. Sídhiel laughed in delight, ignoring the other Elves of their lumornoss who shook their heads at the antics of the two young Elves. They might be adults now, but since neither had reached their first millennia, such frivolity was usually tolerated, if discouraged from being too rowdy.

Trees flashed past in a blur as Sídhiel pushed her body as hard as she could. Running on the ground was not something she was practiced at, for the routes through the branches above were far more fun. On the forest floor, there were considerably more obstacles to deal with; tree roots and fallen branches, other Elves, the loose soil underfoot and smaller plants, as well as the usual mess left behind by the other occupants of the forest. But she had to keep running, for if she stopped, then Óleth would be able to catch her too quickly.

She veered abruptly to the left, sliding effortlessly down the steep embankment. Almost at the river now, the grass beneath her feet was beginning to give way to small stones and shale. And then something heavy collided with her and she was falling, rolling, dazed. The heavier weight atop her clung on until they crashed to a stop, and pressed her into wet pebbles with a triumphant snort.

"I win," Óleth said smugly. Sídhiel stewed for a moment, allowing her sister a small moment of preening before she bucked hard, kicking out and sending the elder elleth tumbling into the water. Sídhiel rolled herself to her feet just in time to see Óleth break the surface of the river, spluttering and drenched.

"You little-!" Óleth shrieked, charging out of the water at her. Sídhiel let out a small yelp, sending pebbles scattering as she scrambled to get out of the way of her outraged sibling. She was much too slow, and the next thing she knew she was being dragged back and into the river.

Freezing! Coldcoldcold! Sídhiel flailed wildly in the water, cursing, as she propelled herself out back onto the shore. Laughing, for the first time in days, Óleth let her scramble for a moment before reaching out a hand to help her onto the drier grass.

"That was uncalled-for," Sídhiel accused, smoothing sopping wet hair back from her face, but there was no malice in her voice. Rodyn, her braids must be a mess by now.

"You did it first," Óleth reminded her, a little breathlessly. She shivered out of her overtunic and fastidiously spread it on the grass in the warm sunshine.

"You're older, you should know better," Sídhiel retorted, shedding her overtunic as well. It did not do much to warm her, but the sudden lack of the heavy sodden weight was a relief.

Óleth snorted. "Not that much older."

"It's twenty-five years, Óleth!" The flat look Óleth shot her in return made plain exactly what her sister thought of a "mere" twenty-five year age gap. Sídhiel rolled her eyes as Óleth lay back on the grass, her eyes shut against the brightness of the sun. Sídhiel remained sitting, unravelling her braids to let them dry properly and watched her sister with a critical eye.

Though she was the younger sibling, she'd often felt like she was elder, the more responsible one. She was the hunter, the fighter, the protector - Óleth had always preferred more passive roles, quickly taking a liking to becoming the favoured storyteller of their lumornoss, learning the Silvan people's histories and finding new ways to tell their legends. Indeed, Óleth disdained violence, going so far as to stubbornly refuse to learn to use any weapon. Play-fighting between the two of them was one thing, but anything that might lead to serious injury was abhorrent to her. Sídhiel found that she could not agree with her pacifism to the same degree: learning to defend oneself and loved ones was necessary - they lived in a dark and troubled world. And besides, not all of them could live on roots and leaves and berries as Óleth chose to, a lumornoss needed hunters as well.

"Have you ever considered leaving?" Óleth asked suddenly, her eyes now open and staring at Sídhiel. She recognised that strange fey look that swirled in those deep green eyes, the edges of precognition crowding in her thoughts and prompting the oddest of conversations. It was beyond her control, and often, she was not aware of why she even thought to ask such questions.

"Leaving?" Sídhiel echoed. "As in, leaving the Greenwood?" She paused at Óleth's nod, seriously considering the question. "I think not. What else could hold my interest in the far-off world?" The Greenwood was her world - everything she cared for was here and would always be here. Family and friends, the trees and the stars. She had no heed to leave. "Why would you ask?"

Óleth's brow knitted into a frown. "I am...not certain. It was just a feeling." She turned her gaze skyward once more, folding her hands behind her head. "But as you said, there is no reason for you to leave." There was a troubled look in her eyes that made Sídhiel's heart clench in worry.

"Don't fret over it, Ól," she said, trying to keep her tone light. "How could I go anywhere when it would mean leaving you? Who would look after you if I wasn't around?"

"I am not a child. I do not need looking after."

"Oh really?" Sídhiel arched a brow. "Who reminds you to eat, hmm? And to talk to other people, and to not spend every day dreaming-"

"All right, all right," Óleth interrupted, laughing. "You win, I would be helpless without you. You are as bad as Naneth, honestly."

"Somebody has to be. You spend all your time emulating Adar."

"I do not!"

"Yes you do, all the way down to that indignant scowl. It will be the legacy of our line, passing from your children to your grandchildren and beyond - so many tiny angry babies." Sídhiel pulled a deliberately exaggerated frown, prompting a playful swat from Óleth.

"Enough of your nonsense, little sister. You and I both know I shan't be having children."

"As you say," Sídhiel shrugged. "At least it is a good time for it; the world is not as dark as it once was. Adar and Naneth's lumornoss has three elflings already, and I have heard word of some among the Sindar too. I am pleased for them."

"You'll get your turn one day."

Sídhiel sighed, trying not to sound too wistful, looking out over the water. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. That is in the hands of the Rodyn."

"I-" Sídhiel frowned, turning back to Óleth, startled by her unusual hesitancy. Óleth sat up, indecision warring on her fair features.

"You will have children one day, I think." Green eyes studied her- no, they looked beyond her, towards something that Óleth alone could see now. "Three, and they burn like fire to my sight, so bright it is hard to tell. It is his fault, he brings the fire and the pain-" here she cut herself off, screwing her eyes closed and withdrawing into herself protectively. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I can't-I won't look anymore, I can't. Sídhiel, don't leave me."

Pushing aside her own alarm and shock, Sídhiel drew Óleth into her arms, shushing her. "It's okay. I'm here. Whatever you saw may never come to pass. Remember that. Always remember that." She had never seen Óleth like this, so shaken by what she had seen. It was far more common for the odd feeling to come over her, or for to say something that uncannily turned out to be true. This felt too much like a True Seeing, and that was something so far beyond Sídhiel's ken. She wanted to run, to curl up at her nana's feet as she had done as an elfling, just to feel safe again. But she couldn't. She needed to be here, and be strong, because Óleth needed her.

"I'll always be here with you, I promise."