A gentle, warm summer breeze whispered through the air, barely stirring the waters of ever-flowing Anduin. The faint touch of wind was catching the strands of long blue and brown hair of two men walking along the banks. Long awaited reunion was marred by the recall of the events that followed Salmar's departure.

"Tindómë? Really?" he raised his brow in surprise. "I didn't know you were…" he cut his sentence short, noting a furrowed brow on his friend's face. "Anyway. So what then?"

"For twelve years I've been searching, hunting for her. Every time I get a step closer, she gets two steps further." Mairon's eyes darkened as he spoke, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "She's like a shadow, always just enough to get me chasing, and always out of reach. I've scoured every corner of Middle-earth, followed every whisper and rumor, but she remains elusive."

"Well, can it be that she just lost interest? Who knows, maybe she understood she can't defeat you, and won't return."

"She is many things, but reasonable is not one of them," Mairon countered. "Patient, however, she is."

Salmar nodded solemnly, his silver-blue hair shimmering in the fading light. "And Galadriel?"

"She is strong, you know her. And way too forgiving for her own good," he smiled with sadness. "She acts like nothing happened, but I can see her mind, know that the thought is there, brooding. Every time I need to ride away, she tenses up, unwilling to let me leave, yet stays quiet about it. As if I don't know. She thinks if she pretends to trust me long enough, she actually will one day."

Salmar could feel Marion's pain, as he spoke. The maia of twilight really did the damage. Eager to lighten the mood, he changed the topic,"But I see you have built your city even more glorious than before!"

Mairon's expression softened slightly, a hint of pride gleaming in his eyes. "Yes, Anduin has flourished despite the shadow that hangs over us. The people are resilient, under the right guidance." He gestured towards the towering spires and graceful arches that lined the riverbank. "But it's not without cost. My vigilance has turned to paranoia at times. Since you are here, I will have some work for you to complete."

"My, my!" Salmar pondered with pretend annoyance. "From one labor to another! I haven't even dried out from the journey! Oh, the cruel fate of Maiar!"

He laughed as he got a faint smile out of Mairon. "Of course, I will do what I can. This place is like a second home to me. So, what else have changed?" Salmar mused.

"Well, Eöwyn finally got over you and got married, if that is what you mean. She dwells in Lorien now," Mairon smirked.

Salmar smiled. Eöwyn was beautiful, and very obviously fancied him. But he could not reciprocate, and it pained him to break her heart. He knew well the effect he had on women, maiar and elves alike, and had a vast experience in saying "no", but it never got more comfortable for him. So maia was relieved to find out he didn't have to face her this time and avoid all this awkwardness. "And your daughters? How have they fared during this time?" he hurried to stir the conversation in different direction.

A flicker of concern crossed Mairon's face. "They've grown, Salmar. Ithriel especially... she's become a force to be reckoned with. But I fear I've kept them too close, too protected. Ithriel chafes against the restrictions, longing for a freedom I dare not grant her. Not with Tindómë out there on the lose. But now, with you here, I expect things to get easier. Girls will be happy to see you."

As they rounded a bend in the river, the grand halls of Anduin came into view. Salmar opened his mouth to respond, but a blur of silver-white caught his eye. Before he could react, a lithe figure had launched itself into his arms, almost throwing him to the ground.

"Salmar!" Ithriel cried, her eyes shining with joy. "You've returned at last! I saw you coming from the window and run as fast as I could!"

Salmar stumbled back, momentarily stunned by the transformation before him. The child he remembered had blossomed into a breathtaking young woman, her silver-white hair cascading down her back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of elven grace and Maia power.

"My word!" he breathed, setting her down gently. "Who are you and what have you done with the little Ithriel I left behind?"

She laughed, a sound like crystal bells. "Did you expect me to remain a child forever?" she looked him straight in the eyes, not letting her hand off his neck. "I have missed you so so much! There's so many things I need to tell you!"

Mairon watched the reunion with a mixture of warmth and unease. "Come now, Ithriel, let the man breathe. He barely arrived and surely has different things in mind before you chat him to death."

Salmar freed herself from her arms gently. "No, no. There is nothing I'd rather do. I am at your service, my Lady!"

As Ithriel led Salmar away, chattering excitedly, Mairon watched them go, his expression a complex mixture of love, pride, and barely concealed worry. The hunt for Tindómë may have consumed him, but the safety of his daughters remained his paramount concern.

As Salmar and Ithriel walked through the park, she stepped in front of him, walking backwards, and asked, "What took you so long? You promised ten years, but were gone for twelve! Didn't you miss us at all?"

Salmar replied, smiling, "Of course I did. You are like family to me. But I was supervising some construction work for Ulmo. A large and ambitious project. So it took time to complete. He also had me do his bidding over different shores and islands, so I had to travel a lot. But now I am free, at least for now."

Ithriel frowned dramatically. "I'm so jealous of you! You get to travel, see the world. And I... I am being treated like a prisoner. What was the point to teach me all these skills if Father won't even let me ride alone, or meet new people! Last summer he lead the company against the dwarves. I begged him to take me with him! But he wouldn't heed." While she spoke, she took Salmar's hand, intertwining their 's breath hitched. Yes, they used to do it when she was little. But now, it felt different, somehow wrong. At the same time, he did not seem to find strength to take his hand away. He couldn't help but look around to see, if anyone watched them. But they were alone.

Ithriel continued, not having a clue of the internal struggle of Maia next to her. "He speaks of dangers, but never explains what is it that he is so concerned about. Always keeping secrets. How am I to become the warrior he trained me to be if I'm never allowed to face real challenges?" she sighed, but her face suddenly lightened up. "At least, now you're here, things will be much more fun."

Salmar finally released his hand from her grip, pretending to remove imaginary dust from his tunic. He chuckled. "Surely you've made a lot of friends to have fun with, while I was gone?"

Ithriel laughed. "Father makes sure Simleriel and I don't have too much fun, if any at all. If any poor soul to dare and get close to us, Mairon scares them away before they even have a chance to introduce themselves. Especially men. Silmeriel, of course, is affected the most. You should see her, Salmar, she is so beautiful! Poor little sister... There are probably not a single elf or man who is not enamored with her in the whole city. So Father practically locked her in the castle and thrown away the key, threatening death to anyone who looks at her the wrong way. Whole day long she is studying and reading. Though," she added, "she doesn't seem to mind. She prefers books to people."

Salmar shifted his weight, his gaze briefly sweeping the park's periphery. He did not respond verbally to Ithriel's last statement, and the only noticeable movement was a minute adjustment in his posture. The path ahead curved gently, obscuring the view of the small bridge leading to the fountain, a popular place for romantic encounters. A pair of squirrels chased each other up a nearby oak tree, their movements oddly synchronized with the rhythm of Ithriel and Salmar's walk. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, elongating their figures on the pathway. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a soft whispering sound that filled the otherwise quiet ambiance.

"We should head back," Salmar suddenly panicked for the reasons he didn't fully understand. "Mairon and Galadriel must be waiting for me."

Ithriel's eyes flickered with disappointment, but she quickly masked it with a smile. "Of course, you must be tired from your journey. But promise me we'll spend more time together soon? There's still so much I want to tell you." Salmar smiled and nodded in a silent promise.

As they turned back towards the halls, Ithriel's hand brushed against Salmar's, sending an unexpected jolt through him. He quickened his pace slightly, putting a bit more distance between them.

"So," Salmar said, desperate to change the subject, "tell me about your training. Your father mentioned you've become quite the warrior."

Ithriel's face lit up. "Oh, Salmar, you should see me with a sword now! Father says I'm nearly as good as any of his lieutenants. And my archery skills have improved tenfold since you left. I can hit a target from..." She continued enthusiastically, detailing her accomplishments as they walked. Salmar listened intently, grateful for the distraction from the confusing emotions stirring within him. He marveled at how much she had grown, not just physically, but in skill and confidence too.

As they approached the main entrance, Ithriel suddenly stopped, turning to face Salmar. Her eyes, now a deep blue, locked onto his. "Salmar," she said softly, "I'm so glad you're back. I've missed having someone who truly understands me."

Before Salmar could respond, the great doors swung open, revealing Galadriel. Her piercing gaze swept over them both, a knowing look in her eyes that made Salmar feel uncomfortably exposed. "Welcome home, Salmar," Galadriel said warmly, though her eyes never left her daughter, who looked more like her sister now. "Ithriel, your father requires your presence in the study. Now."

Ithriel's face fell, but she nodded obediently. With a final, lingering look at Salmar, she disappeared into the halls.

Galadriel turned her full attention to Salmar, smile playing on her lips. "Here, I rescued you." she said, "She can get… intense. Like father, like daughter."

As Salmar followed her inside, he couldn't shake the feeling that his return might prove to be more challenging that he had anticipated.

Ithriel's fingers traced the intricate carvings on the balcony railing, covered in lush flowers and vines - Celebrían's creation. She tore petal by petal from the delicate white and pink roses, throwing them down the floor. Her eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the golden sun dipped below the trees. The warm breeze carried the scent of night-blooming flowers, a bittersweet reminder of the freedom that lay just beyond her reach.

"You're brooding again, sister," came Silmeriel's lilting voice from behind her.

Ithriel turned, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Is it that obvious?"

Silmeriel joined her at the railing, her long golden hair catching the last rays of sunlight. "Only to those who know you best. Besides, you are destroying my beautiful plants." She bumped her shoulder playfully against Ithriel's.

"You can grow them back with a mere thought, sister," Ithriel sighed, but stopped tearing the plants.

"What troubles you this time? I expected you to be more happy now that Salmar is back. You were waiting for him so. Always only talked about it: Salmar this, and Salmar that…"

A faint blush colored Ithriel's cheeks. "I am happy," she protested weakly and sighed in frustration. "But also angry. He is just as scared of Father as everyone else."

Silmeriel's expression changed to a confusion. "Whatever do you mean, sister? Did something happened?"

Ithriel moved into the room and fell onto the bed. "I mean, dear Celebrían, that I am in love."

Silmeriel gasped softly, her eyes widening. "In love? With whom? Wait, no! Salmar?" She moved to sit beside her sister on the bed, taking Ithriel's hand in her own. "Oh, Ithriel... are you certain? Because you said the same thing about the last… ten… elves that Father sent to the front lines never to come back again."

Ithriel nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Those were just for fun. You know, I love seeing great and terrible Mairon exasperated and scared. At least some distraction in this cage. But Salmar… I've loved him for years, Silmeriel. At first, I thought it was just a childish infatuation, but now..." She trailed off, her gaze distant. "When I saw him today, my heart felt like it would burst. But he... he barely looked at me. He kept trying to put distance between us, as if he was afraid to be near me."

She buried her face in her hands. "I know it's foolish. But when I saw him today... The way he looked at me, Silmeriel. It was different."

Young elf squeezed her sister's hand gently. "Perhaps he was just surprised by how much you've grown. It must be strange for him, seeing you as a woman now when he last knew you as a child."

"Or perhaps Father has already gotten to him," Ithriel said bitterly. "You know how he is with any man who dares to look at us. Even Salmar isn't immune to his intimidation."

Silmeriel gently stroked her sister's hair. "And you think Father would disapprove?"

"Father disapproves of everything," Ithriel spat. "As if we were still little kids."

Silmeriel bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. "This is all very sudden. For Salmar especially. It might prove difficult for him to see you as anything more than a child, sister."

Ithriel sat up, her eyes blazing with determination. "I'm tired of being treated like a child! I'm a woman grown, capable of making my own choices. Why can't anyone see that? I am not an elf, who is a child until one is a hundred years old. My blood is of Ainur, who are born adult! And so is yours!" She paused, turning to face her sister with determination burning in her eyes. "I won't let Father's overprotectiveness or Salmar's hesitation stop me. I'll make him see me for who I truly am."

Silmeriel rose, concern etched on her face. "Be careful, sister. Love can be a dangerous game, especially when played against Father's wishes. And Salmar... he may not feel the same way. Many beautiful women have come to love him, but he did not care for any of them."

Ithriel's expression softened as she embraced her sister. "I am not just any woman. I know you worry for me, but I must follow my heart. And I am my father's daughter, after all. I know a thing or two about getting what I want…" She was already formulating a plan, her eyes shining with a mixture of hope and defiance. "Trust me, sister. I'll be careful. But I can't live like this anymore. Something has to change."

As night fell over the halls of Anduin, two sisters embraced, one filled with trepidation, the other with fierce determination.