Next chapter! By the way, I'm sorry, I forgot to mention in the previous chapter that the character Sador isn't mine. He's Fiondil's. X3 Please, enjoy the chapter! By the way, if you are looking for some humor to laugh at, go check out Peregrin Took the Falcon's stories.

Chapter 7

It is my fourth day of training. I am practicing my skills with my ring. It is rather difficult, but I have been trying my best and master says that I have done well. Therefore, I am happy.

I can now manipulate objects of any size without feeling too weak, and he insists that I must learn how to manipulate the elements next. So I will try. We are going to start with air, because I asked.

Today also I taught him something that he did not know- the making of mind labyrinths using memory. He was rather shaken when he tried my simplest one, to my surprise. I do not understand why he would have acted so.

I have been through worse then such a simple horror of seeing Angband, and yet he was rather pale when he had successfully navigated the puzzle. When I asked him about it, he did not answer but instead gave me a look that I could not understand.

But I am happy in my training. It is tiring but fun. Glorfindel doesn't suspect anything, but I'm still trying to be careful. It's a little tricky to hide the master/apprentice bond from Muindor, but I can do it.

Even though I don't like to hide it from him, I know I must. Why I don't know, but I just know. I wonder if it's an 'inspiration,' (as Muindor says) of Eru...

The elaborate, jeweled journal with her name engraved in gold shut with a bang and Eruanna put it away, skipping off down the hall cheerily to spend some small time with Legolas and Aragorn.

She burst cheerily into the sparring arena where some of the Fellowship were practicing and made her way to a small stool where she sat and watched, legs swinging. Legolas and Aragorn sparred, Andúril and double daggers flashing in the light that streamed through the windows. Andúril gleamed, flashing a cold light that made her shiver slightly, runes glowing golden of their own accord.

The man, Boromir, and the dwarf Gimli came and sat by her, watching as well. "They fight well." Gimli said gruffly, by way of starting small conversation. Eruanna nodded absently, eyes glazing over. Funny, she thought she could remember seeing such a scene before. But the tiny tickle in her mind eluded her grasp, and she sighed inwardly as she came back to the present. If only she could remember more.

"Yes." Was Boromir's only answer, but he glanced to the elfling beside him. She turned to look at him and tilted her head curiously with a questing blink.

He smiled warmly. "Never before have I seen an elven child. My brother would love to meet you." A pained, wistful look crept into the steel grey eyes. "Always he loved tales of elven folk, preferring to slay dragons in the realm of books rather then sparring with others his age." A gleam of brief, by-gone amusement flashed through his eyes, as Eruanna smiled at the description.

She touched his mind and immediately received an image of a white city, a banner snapping in the breeze and a sword raised in a mighty hand with brown-fletched arrows. The color of strawberry wine shadowed in a deep cup. A horn of polished ivory, ringed with silver.

*What is your brother's name?* Eruanna tried to block too many images from coming to her mind. Boromir visibly started and stared at her oddly for a moment.

"His name is Faramir." Was his answer. An image flashed across her mind of a blue-eyed young man with wavy, dark blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, dressed in a leather vest that bore the emblem of a silver tree on it.

*He looks nice.* Was her only, thoughtful comment as she turned back to the spar, eyes contemplative as she withdrew her mind from his. The Gondorian man was left to wonder, dazed, about this intriguing child whose eyes were as deep and old as the seas.

LOTRLOTRLOTR

Day eight of training. I can now do many things with air, and master has decided that since time is short and I know how to practice that I should learn on my own in free time.

To be honest, I doubt that I shall ever learn anything else. I have learned of the three elven rings of Celebrimbor, and are there not already rings of fire, air, and water? I will not attempt to learn too much of magic rings, for they are dangerous and I wish not the responsibility that comes with such a knowledge.

But with this ring that has been given me, whether by chance or otherwise, I shall take responsibility as is proper.

It has been more than a week since I have started learning under master, and he says that he has been pleased with my progress. Whenever he tells me such things I feel ridiculously happy, almost as though Glorfindel had said such a thing. But not quite. No one shall ever take the place of Muindor.

I wonder what master has in store for me today. He has been acting a little oddly recently, as though he were concerned, and then he suddenly seemed to be happy, as though pleased with something. Master can be so strange sometimes, though I shall never tell him that. I suppose it is a mortal thing. Do you suppose so?

Eruanna looked over her entry dubiously, wondering who exactly she was writing to.

*Me, maybe?* A voice she had not heard in a long time came back, as sarcastic as ever.

*Maybe.* She snarked back. *I haven't heard you in a while. Do you think that means I actually missed you?* Eruanna feigned horror.

There was a snicker in her mind. *Posh. Of course you did.* Her conscience sniffed. *Besides, if I'm not mistaken, you're going to need me soon to keep your sanity.* The tone suddenly became grave.

Eruanna frowned. *True, perhaps. I have felt recently that things are tensing, even here within Imladris. The signs are so small, but they are there. The trees that communicate with the outer world grow uneasy with the news. Dark things happen.* She sighed, and the journal closed.

*Do you think I shall have to do something odd today?* She asked curiously as she pattered down the halls to the basement, making sure that no one followed as usual.

*I don't know, don't ask me.* Was the retort.

*Well sorry. I was just trying to include you.* Eruanna scoffed.

*Whatever.* Was the sniff.

Rolling her eyes, Eruanna sat down on the stone floor of the basement and began to meditate thoughtfully, relaxing herself and just listening to the echoes around her. Reaching out and feeling the place with her tendrils of thought.

She could feel rather then see the sticky spiderweb that was being spun in the dark corner of the room, feel rather then hear the quiet flutter of a moth's wings among the shadowy crates. And she could sense Ciaran as he came down the steps.

She had always had problems reading his aura, and he had promised to teach her how to do that soon. She stood and turned to the doorway with a bow as he entered. Ciaran chuckled and strode forwards, hugging her gently as was his wont.

"Come now, Eruanna, I think today's lesson shall be fun, for a change." He winked. Eruanna blinked.

*Master?* She asked, confused. He chortled.

"We shall be training in the palace today." He declared. "And we shall do it under the guise of playing a game." He said. Eruanna blinked. Yep. Her master had gone mad.

"No I have not, impertinence." Ciaran scoffed, picking her up as she grinned innocently. "We shall be playing hide and seek. And I shall teach you how to find the best places to hide- although I am sure you could teach me that better. And in any case, I shall be showing you how to walk as silently as a hobbit, even better. I shall teach you how to stalk." His eyes took on a glitter.

*O-kay?* She replied, a little baffled.

"You can escape from enemies unseen, you can walk generally undetected wherever you like, you can stalk without ever being seen, you can hide in plain sight and no one would ever be suspicious." He added patiently, and she nodded.

"Good. Come." So he bounded up the stairs in a good mood, while Eruanna was left to wonder what in Arda had gotten into her master. They met Aragorn in the halls as Eruanna began to warm up to the idea of playing hide-and-seek, already plotting her hiding spots.

"Oh? What is this? What are you two planning now? I tell you, I'm beginning to suspect everyone on account of those hobbits." Aragorn growled playfully, making Eruanna giggle and Ciaran snort.

"We are playing a game." Ciaran replied with almost comical levity. "Hide-and-seek, in fact." Was the innocent answer.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Then he suddenly grinned. "Funny, today everyone seems to be in a good mood. Why don't we plot to bring a certain few into the game as well, assuming I'm allowed to join?" He winked.

Eruanna was becoming extremely suspicious now. Something was not right, with all the gaiety today. She would have to find out what had happened. And she had a pretty good idea who was behind it all, too. But it was just a vague suspicion...

"One, two, three, four-" Ciaran was counting to one hundred to give her and Aragorn time to find a good place to hide. She and Estel had grinned knowingly. They had grown up in Imladris, Ciaran had not. It was almost ridiculously easy to find a place that Ciaran would have difficulty finding.

She booked it through the halls, deciding to hide in the library. Erestor wouldn't care, as long as she didn't shriek- but then, it was a quiet game, no? She clambered into the Nook, as it was called in Imladris.

It was a small cranny of space by a hidden window behind a large bookcase. A window-seat. Not very many knew about it, and few could find it. It was a very comfortable spot, with cushions and a place to stretch out. It was also an unspoken agreement that if there was a book propped up at the end of the bookcase on the third shelf it meant that the Nook was occupied.

So propping up the book, she climbed into her spot. She sank into the music of the world that she could hear so well, sensing all who went by and hearing many things that she could not see.

There was the creak of chairs as Erestor went about his work. The wood of the shelves and the leather of the tomes brought to her nose a sweet scent of old nature. It was quiet, and yet not. But a peaceful, muted noise nonetheless, sounds dulled by the large volumes of absorbent leather and barriers of wooden shelves.

The ink on the pages smelled bitter and yet slightly sweet. The crackle of parchment tickled her ears and she fought to not to squirm from it. Erestor sighed over something or another. She smiled at the sound of it. She did so love the dear councillor, who fussed over her as much as any mother would, and though he rarely admitted it, often used the worry string she had given him.

Every year or so she would give him a new one, and he would always grace her with a rare, genuine smile. She always looked forwards to see that rare smile, just as the others looked forwards to receiving a rare and highly coveted kiss from the elfling.

Only Glorfindel got them on a regular basis. The display of affection was a thing to be hard-earned and treasured, for it meant the full trust and love from the little elfling. So far, only three had ever received the honor: Glorfindel, Aragorn, and Erestor.

And as Erestor had privately admitted to Glorfindel once, Eruanna was his worry string.

She was brought out of her musings by the muted, tightly furled aura of Ciaran passing by, barely detectable as he peeked into the doorway and began scanning the room carefully. She held her breath, becoming as still as one of the statues that decorated the ornate halls of Imladris.

Footsteps passed on and she let out her breath slowly and evenly. Something about the situation stirred her memory. Statues. Ornate halls. Where had she seen this before? Something in her mind suddenly began to stir, and she tried to fight it off. No, not another, not now! But it would not let her alone, and she gave in to the new piece of her past.

Gondolin. Why would it not let her alone? It was a city long gone, a ghost of the past. Yet at the same time, she wanted to remember. She needed to know more about her past. What if there were people she did not remember, people she should know, people that perhaps she knew now and did not remember?

And yet she loathed it. It had brought her nothing but grief in the end. Her feelings warred with each other. Hate. Love. Desire. Loathing. But in the end, love won out.

A past shadow of herself ran through the hallways of her once home, giggling quietly as she heard the voice fading away. "One, two, three, four-"

She clambered into the spot she had chosen, a secret, hidden spot underneath her brother's deserted desk in his study. "Ready or not, here I come!"

Her breath came steady, shallow, and even, as footsteps passed time and time again, muttering growing louder with each turn. "Where is that little brat?" But the name was said with amused fondness and only made Eruanna want to giggle.

Then suddenly, there was a "boo!" and her hiding place was found as she let out a shriek and a laugh. Ecthelion picked her up, kissing her cheek and laughing heartily.

"There's my tricky little flower!" He chuckled, and she smiled at him happily.

"I will alwayth luff you, otorno Thel!" She lisped happily, causing his steely blue-grey eyes to soften to watered silk.

"And I will always love you, my little golden flower. I will never forget you, even if one day I go to the halls of Mandos." He promised softly, and she patted his cheeks happily, kissing them sweetly.

The never knew that her parents had peeped into the doorway and then crept away, tears in their eyes as they smiled over the sight of brother and sister. If only Glorfindel was there.

Eruanna snapped out of her memory to the smell of salt, and winced as she wiped away her damp cheeks. She hadn't meant to cry about it, even if she missed Ecthelion very much. She remembered him very well. She hoped he remembered her, even in the halls of Mandos as he promised.

"There you are!" She looked up with a smile to see Ciaran grinning at her.

"I must admit, I was proud." He told her, lifting her up. "You hardly made a sound as you slipped away. Very good." He nodded, and she was pleased.

It was her turn next after Ciaran had taught her a few tricks, and she went off after counting to find Ciaran, Aragorn, and Elladan and Elrohir who had been roped into the game as well.

Now, if only she could figure out why they were all so ridiculously happy...

LOTRLOTRLOTR

"Funny thing is that he does." Nàmo noted in an intrigued tone of voice. "He remembers his name, and Glorfindel and Eruanna, though nothing else at all. Truly these children are incredible." He shook his head as he leaned back in his chair.

"Ecthelion vowed that he would remember them both, no matter where he was, for Eruanna's sake. Such a vow is not to be broken, even with death." Manwë replied with a smile, far from displeased.

"Well. Ciaran has been doing well, as has she, but that is beyond the point... Finrod came to Lòrien recently." Irmo sounded rather displeased.

"And what about it made you so displeased?" Nienna asked.

"He- suggested- to put it lightly-" his voice took on a darkly amused lilt. "That Glorfindel return soon. Or else... Let's leave that particular one to Eonwë, shall we?" He asked, and the Valar snickered despite themselves.

"Was that a summons, my lord?" Eonwë appeared with the Book of Oaths in his hands, a slightly amused smile on his face. Tulkas, Oromë, Aulë, and Nàmo roared. Irmo raised an eyebrow.

"Oh go away, Eonwë, I see now why the firstborn never seem too happy to see you, particularly Finrod..." Irmo muttered, causing gales of laughter to go up as Eonwë assumed a mock-hurt attitude as he faded into the fabric of reality.

After the laughter had died down Estë smiled wickedly. "Just wait until she comes to us, and see how life in Aman changes then. Particularly for a certain judge of the dead." She giggled, and Nàmo was subjected to friendly jibes as he sulked in his chair.

I know that many of you are wondering what Eonwë meant, so I'll explain. Eonwë is the herald of Manwë, so he has the duty of caring for the Book of Oaths. Every oath, vow, or promise evoked in the name of the Valar and/or Eru is written down by Eonwë, and he shows them to the Valar, who makes sure that they come to pass as is proper. The idea is Fiondil's, not mine.

Peregrin Took the Falcon: well I hope you have. X3 Thanks!

Kmartz95: everytime I get a review from you I grin like a moron. No, you don't sound like one at all! I wanted you to ask, because I'm purposefully giving you a teaser... I'm keeping it a secret. ;) glad you liked the flashback!

WoodElfJedi: *giggles* aww! don't be too worried! she'll be fine... I think. 0_0 I'm glad you liked it. Okay, I'll try to make a DocX connection. Yes, they are. *sigh* yes! everyone is slowly recovering. And yes, you do... But that's not too bad. ;P

Jesus' girl 4ever: she thanks you. XD *hugs* glad you enjoyed!

Mibs Shadow: I know! *snickers*

ljuhl: thank you!

Legolas is my Bae: No one knows who Glorfindel's canonical parents are. In Fiondil's story, he was adopted by King Finarfin and his wife Eärwen, and I have kept that here. Gwador means heart-brother in Sindarin, and Ammë means mother in Quenyä. It's okay, not everyone wants to study Middle Earth that deeply. ;)