ELANOR'S REVENGE

To our readers - thank you for your feedback!! We appreciate it!

***

Chapter Thirty-Five

As the first light of dawn crept into the sleeping chamber, Elanor rolled over and looked at Haldir, who was lying on his back, resting peacefully. Too peacefully, she decided, and poked him with her fingers. “Haldir, what was Lurien doing with my sister?”

Haldir turned his head to look at her. “He was doing what I told him to do. Keeping her out of my hair.”

She raised herself up on one elbow. “Do you think that is wise? I mean, Lana is so young, and Lurien is so--” She broke off when she saw Haldir’s grin. “What is so amusing?”

“You, Elanor.” He reached out and pulled her over so she was mostly on top of him. “Already you are worrying when there is no need.”

“How do I know there is no need? Lurien has behaved in the most dastardly manner, and my sister is susceptible to any kind of flattery.”

“Perhaps so, but she will not get it from Lurien. He is in love with Tarwë.”

“If so, he does not show it. Have you already forgotten how he behaved toward me? And I am—”

“Suspicious,” he filled in. “Trust me, Elanor, your sister is safe from Lurien.”

She gazed down at him, her fingers playing with his hair. “You are sure of this?”

“I am sure, Elanor.”

“I am going to talk to Lurien myself,” she said pensively. “I have not spoken with him since . . . . ” Memories of Lurien standing in Haldir’s talan, taunting her, returned to her mind, and she did not complete the sentence.

“You will find him changed,” he said gently.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That is hard to believe. How do you know it is not a trick of some kind?”

He sighed. “Because I know him, that is why. Are you certain you are ready to speak with him? I sense much conflict in you.”

“I am ready,” she said firmly.

He studied her for a moment, before saying, “Lurien has something he wishes to discuss, unrelated to your sister. He mentioned it to me before we left for the Fences. I told him he would have to wait until you healed before he spoke of it to you.”

She frowned, shifting her weight slightly. “What is this about?”

He regarded her with tenderness, yet seemed to hesitate in his reply. “I think Lurien should tell you himself. It seems important to him.”

Elanor almost asked him why he would care what was important to Lurien, but something in his tone stopped her. Instead she said, “Very well, I will listen to what he has to say, but I shall also tell him to stay away from Lana. It cannot hurt to warn him just in case you are wrong.”

He made a low sound of amusement. “Elanor, you are a stubborn elleth.”

She leaned down and kissed his chest. “Does that also mean I am an exceptionally good lover? You seemed to draw some connection between the two last night.”

Haldir’s hands closed around her upper arms, pulling her up so that her mouth aligned with his. “Is it possible you do not know how much you please me?” The sentence was interspersed with tiny kisses on her mouth.

She smiled. “Is it possible that after all the attention I gave you during the night, you are in need of more?” she whispered, wriggling against that part of him that was already giving her an answer.

“Is it possible to receive more of Elanor’s exceptional attentions or is she too weary from last night?”

She kissed him lightly and then again, lingeringly. “Is it possible you do not know that Elanor is always eager for more of Haldir?”

Haldir slowly rolled over, taking her with him so that she now lay pinned beneath him. “Is it possible,” he said seductively, “that you would like to bathe me and then prepare my breakfast?”

“I am your breakfast,” she said naughtily.

“Indeed you are. But that kind of breakfast I would like in the tub.”

She wrapped her legs around his hips and hooked her ankles together. “So now I must decide whether or not to let you have your way again.”

He teased her with a tiny movement of his hips. “Decide quickly, my love, because you are in a very enticing position right now. I have told you my preference, but I will take my breakfast right here if need be.”

“A bath does sound lovely,” she admitted.

As they rose from the bed, she noticed that Haldir’s smile had turned complacent, probably because he was getting what he wanted. But if truth be told she did not mind, not when his wishes coincided so well with her own. She loved to bathe with him. She would take this opportunity to show him once again how very much she loved and cherished him. Afterward, she would tell him that they were meeting her parents for breakfast.

~*~

“Ada, do you not think that I should be staying with Elanor?” Lana inquired as she reached for a biscuit. They had been shown the way to the common dining area, where the majority of the elves broke their fast each day. It was in a large clearing under the trees, with various wooden tables and benches set up, and a long table filled with various food items to choose from.

“Not if she does not wish it,” Eluon objected mildly. “Remember, my dear, your sister has a new life here. We must respect her privacy.”

Lana tossed back her hair. “But why would she need to be private from me? I am her sister. She ought to be here with us now instead of wherever she is.”

Eluon watched his daughter’s eyes wandering over the various ellyn seated at nearby tables; she was trying to attract their attention, or perhaps she was only ascertaining if any of them had noticed her. It was clear to him that they had, but it was also apparent that they were too polite and discreet to make it obvious.

“Lanaewen, my dear, please do not stare so,” he said with exasperation. “It is not fitting.”

“I am not staring! Why should I not look around? Everything is so different here. You and Nana look around!”

“We do not stare at ellyn,” Iriel remonstrated softly, tearing off a small piece of sweet, freshly baked bread. “My daughter, you must not begrudge your sister her place here or her newfound happiness.”

“Her happiness?” Lana echoed suspiciously. “What is she so happy about?”

Eluon exchanged a glance with his wife. They had not had an opportunity to discuss privately what they would say to their younger daughter about Elanor’s situation. “Your sister is quite content here in Lórien,” he said carefully. “She plans to remain and make her home here.”

Lana dropped her biscuit, her indignant gaze shifting back and forth between her two parents. “She cannot do that! She has to come back to Imladris with us!” She looked alarmed and annoyed, but also distraught enough for Eluon to be concerned.

“Elanor may do as she pleases,” he said in a reasonable voice. “You must accept that and be happy for her. She loves Haldir and wishes to remain with him.”

Lana turned white. “That is not possible!”

“Why not, my dear?” Iriel’s brows had lifted.

“Because . . . everything will change, and I do not want it to change. I want us all to go home together and be a family again.”

Eluon’s heart sank. “Lanaewen . . . ” he said helplessly. If she reacted like this to the news that her sister wished to stay in Lórien, how much worse would it be when she learned what he and her mother wished to do? How many long years would they be forced to wait before they could sail? The thought tore him in two.

“Sometimes things must change,” Iriel inserted quietly, “despite our wishes.”

“Look,” said Eluon, as Lana opened her mouth to object, “there is Elanor now. She is with Haldir,” he added for Iriel’s benefit, since she was not facing the right direction to see them. He watched his daughter thread her way toward them, once more noting how poised she was and how confidently she moved. Haldir followed behind her as though he had the right and the authority to do so, as a bond-mate would do. The thought seemed odd, and yet strangely right to Eluon. He smiled as they came up.

“Good morning, Ada.” Elanor bent to kiss his cheek, then added greetings to her mother and sister on the other side of the table.

Eluon watched his younger daughter’s face as Elanor and Haldir sat down. He could not decide if Lana was jealous or merely suffering from a lack of confidence and maturity. Her face had turned a little pink, no doubt due to the memory of her injudicious behavior in Imladris. To Haldir’s credit, he gave no indication that he recollected Lanaewen, for which Eluon was grateful. Lana’s indiscretion where Haldir was concerned was something that Eluon would prefer to forget, and he was sure Haldir felt the same.

The ensuing conversation wound its way through a number of topics, including Elanor’s introduction to archery and her inclusion in some kind of competition. Eluon observed Haldir carefully, marking the undercurrent of pride in his voice as he praised Elanor for her courage and persistence. It was obvious now that he saw them together that this Lórien elf loved his daughter, yet was restrained enough to be discreet about it in the presence of her parents. Would he take care of Elanor as her father wished her to be cared for? It was worrisome to know that he would stand guard at Lórien’s Fences for many years to come, yet that was no reason for Elanor not to love him. If anything, she would love him all the more for his willingness to serve in that capacity. And Elrond had spoken highly of him.

Of course neither of them had mentioned marriage, but Eluon guessed it was on their minds. It was in the way they sat, slightly closer than was normal, and in the way their eyes met and held whenever they looked at each other.

Eluon waited for the next brief lull in the conversation and then addressed Haldir. “Elanor tells me she plans to remain here in Lórien,” he said casually.

The Marchwarden’s gray eyes met Eluon’s with straightforward candor. “I am glad. It is my greatest wish.”

Pleased, Eluon nodded. “I am glad to hear it. Will you be staying here in the city for a while?”

“I will remain for a few days, yes. Then I must return to my duty.” He glanced at Elanor as he spoke, and Eluon could see the look that passed between them. It was difficult for them to be parted, but also necessary.

Eluon sighed inwardly. If these two bonded, it would ease his heart to know Elanor had found her life-mate. She had not known Haldir long, but how long had he known Iriel before he knew she was the one? Days? No more than two weeks at most, he recalled. In fact, a part of him had known the instant he’d set eyes on her.

“”Tis a shame you leave so soon,” Iriel commented. She was watching Haldir closely, her clear blue eyes evaluating him with a shrewdness that Eluon knew only too well. “Since our daughter is choosing to remain here because of you, I would enjoy furthering our acquaintance.”

Eluon could tell she was displeased that Haldir would leave so soon, and was wondering if he was using duty as an excuse to avoid interacting with Elanor’s parents.

Haldir lifted one of those dark brows. “Surely you will stay a while in Lórien now that you are here?”

“We will stay long enough to see our daughter settled and be sure that she is happy,” Iriel informed him. Her tone was gentle but meaningful.

“Naneth . . .” Elanor began, but Haldir’s arm moved slightly, telling Eluon that he had stilled her with his hand.

“I am pleased to hear it,” the Marchwarden said calmly. “That will give us ample time to become acquainted. I would have it no other way.” His keen gaze rested on Iriel’s face. “Elanor’s happiness is of immense importance to me. I am glad to know you share my sentiments.”

Iriel’s nostrils flared slightly. “Did you doubt it?”

“Not at all,” Haldir said politely, his voice and gaze steady.

“My dear,” Eluon interjected, “I am sure Haldir meant no offense.”

Iriel smiled ruefully. “I know. I fear I suffer some remorse for leaving Elanor on her own for so long. I am a little sensitive, I suppose. Forgive me,” she added to Haldir, who nodded courteously and somewhat aloofly.

Lana had been unusually silent during this exchange, and it was at this point that Eluon noticed where her attention lay. The sons of Elrond had been circulating among the tables, flirting blatantly and audaciously with every elleth they met, married or unwed. Many feminine eyes followed them, with smiles lingering on upward curving lips. The twins were clearly as popular here in Lórien as they were in Imladris, their dark bold looks perhaps earning them even more admiration in this land of blonds. But Eluon knew his daughter did not like the twins, so why was she so interested in their movements?

They were making their way toward Eluon’s table, where they stopped and smiled at the gathered group. “I trust you have recovered from our travels,” Elrohir remarked, with Elladan adding, “and are enjoying this enchanting city.” They proceeded to compliment Iriel, inquire on the state of Elanor’s health, invite Eluon to dine with them some evening, and tease the Marchwarden about neglecting his duty for the company of pretty ellith. They then turned their attentions on Lanaewen, rather to Eluon’s surprise, since he’d believed the dislike between his daughter and the twin sons of Elrond was heartily mutual.

“How fare you this morning, fair lady?” Elladan inquired.

“You appear to be in the full bloom of your natural beauty,” Elrohir added. “Not that you ever lost it, but you seemed a bit out of sorts during our travels.”

Lana’s gaze shifted warily between the two identical faces. “I cannot believe you care, either of you.”

Eluon opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it and waited to see how the two ellyn would respond.

Elrohir looked wounded. “You wrong us, lovely one. It is true that we are mischievous, but we also care about your well-being. How could we not?”

“Indeed,” Elladan agreed, his voice serious, “you are one of our own, from Imladris, and certainly one of the fairest who resides there.”

Lana glanced around, as if to see how many of the Lothlórien ellith had heard this statement. “What do you want?” she asked in a slightly mollified tone.

“Only the pleasure of your company.” Elrohir smiled such a disarming smile that Eluon was suspicious, but still he said nothing. He exchanged a glance with Iriel, whose face told him that she too was suspicious.

“We thought we could take you on a little tour,” Elladan explained. “Introduce you to a few people and show you some of the most enchanting sights.”

“My daughter will remain with us,” Iriel interjected coolly.

But Lana bristled. “Surely that should be my decision, Naneth.”

Iriel said nothing, as Eluon had expected. Iriel had never quite known how to respond to Lana’s moods or demands, and although she sometimes made token objections, she often backed down or gave in, as though anything more was just too much effort. Yet, to give her fair credit, Lana really ought to be able to make her own decisions on something like this.

Meanwhile, Elrohir was bowing, and Elladan was offering his arm. Lana was clearly flattered, and really, what harm could she come to in such company? The twins might be mischievous, but they were never cruel, nor were they likely to injure her. Eluon relaxed, and instead found himself watching first Elanor and then Haldir. Elanor did not look worried, but Haldir, well, one of those dark brows had risen just a little. Eluon wondered what it meant, but did not ask.

~*~

Aside from a short visit from his sister Doria, Lurien had spent most of his first evening back in the city alone in his talan. He had gone to visit Tarwë, hoping to find that she had missed him, but instead he discovered she had company—specifically an ellon whom Lurien has reason to know had once been her lover. Back then he had only laughed and teased her about spurning him for another, but now he did not find it so amusing. Still, he had sat with them on Tarwë’s terrace, making gracious conversation for as long as he could endure it. Eventually it became apparent that the other ellon had no intention of leaving. So Lurien had left, and even managed to rein in his temper although it had been a challenge when he had been so frustrated.

That had been yesterday, and so far today he had fared no better. Obviously Tarwë was still set on keeping her distance. He did not like it, but there seemed to be little he could do about it. It was not in his nature to yield on a matter like this, but he dared not risk any kind of altercation with a potential rival. Other tactics were called for and he knew it. Patience, attentiveness, persistence, consideration, fortitude—these would be his weapons from now on.

Whether or not his so-called rival had shared her bed last night he did not know; he tried not to think about it, for the mere idea filled him with jealousy and sadness. At the same time he knew all too well that he deserved such treatment, and a part of him commended Tarwë for her tactics. The other part ground his teeth.

Thus it was that when the tap on his door came, his heart leaped with the hope that it was she. Yet it was not; it was only Elanor, looking a bit pale, yet also determined, judging from the set of her jaw.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” she asked in a calm and cool voice.

Lurien stepped aside, holding his door open. “Certainly. As it happens, I wish to speak to you as well.” He looked over her shoulder, expecting to see Haldir, but to his surprise she had come alone. Thinking she might feel more comfortable on the terrace, he led her across the room and out onto the small and lovely area he so cherished.

Elanor glanced around, as though to assure herself that she was safe, then turned to face him. “I am here for one reason and that is to speak to you about my sister.” She lifted her chin, managing to look both stubborn and slightly fierce. “Haldir says she is safe from you, but I have come for your promise that you will leave her alone. She is very young and . . . and sometimes unable to appreciate the ramifications of her decisions. You will not toy with her! Do you hear me, Lurien?”

Lurien stared, fighting a wild urge to laugh. Dare he tell her that he had already forgotten her silly sister? Nay, not wise, but something had to be said. “I fully comprehend your distrust,” he said carefully, “and I acknowledge that my past behavior has been, to put it bluntly, reprehensible. But I swear to you, upon whatever tatters are left of my honor, that your sister is safe from me. You have my vow.”

He read the disbelief in her eyes. “Why should I trust you?” she asked. “Give me a reason I can believe.”

He turned away from her, searching for words to express what he felt in a way that she could accept as true. “While you lay broken in the healing talan, they did not let me near you,” he said. “I wanted to come and tell you how sorry I was. Never did I dream that I could be the cause of such a horrible occurrence. Whether you believe it or not, I suffered along with you. That first night after you fell . . . for me, it seemed to last a hundred years. Every moment that passed was an eternity during which I examined myself, and my life, from every conceivable angle.” He swung around to face her, meeting her gaze squarely. “It was agony like I had never known. For perhaps the first time I saw who I really was, what I had become, and . . . it was not a pretty sight.” He kept his voice steady, striving to put matter-of-factness in his tone. “To know that one has failed so miserably, to have lost everything, perhaps even the elleth I love . . . it was sheer torment on a scale I would wish on no one else.”

“I am sorry, Lurien,” she said, her gaze on his face. “I have never sought your suffering, and I do not wish it now. Perhaps you have not lost the love of this elleth. Do we speak of Tarwë?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded jerkily. “Yes, Tarwë. I have loved her for many years. I know that may be difficult to believe, given your knowledge of me, but it is true. All that I have done, in my madness, has jeopardized what chance I have of winning her. The madness is at an end, but I am not sure she believes it.”

Elanor’s face softened slightly. “In time, I trust you will be able to convince her. I am very fond of Tarwë and want nothing more for her than happiness.”

“Then we share a common goal, for I seek her happiness as well as her love," he stated, far more humbly than he’d intended. Suddenly, he felt himself flush, something so uncharacteristic of him that he started to chuckle. He bowed slightly, his hand on his heart. “Forgive me if I am too candid, but you see now why I find your sister of no interest. It is only Tarwë I want. I know not if she will ever accept me and if she does not, then . . . so be it. But I will accept no substitute.”

Elanor’s blue eyes searched his. “I am amazed to find that I believe you, Lurien. Should I?”

“Yes, indeed you should, for I am in earnest,” he said gravely. “Your faith in me will not be betrayed this time, or ever again.”

He invited her to sit, watching while she chose one end of a carved bench surrounded by plants and vines. He then joined her, being careful to put sufficient distance between them so as to do nothing that would alarm her or prevent her from listening to what he had to say. Oddly, he did trust Elanor to give him a chance, far more than he had Haldir. No longer did he see her as weak; now he welcomed her compassion and lack of rigidity.

And so he told her about his idea, his plan to build a bridge in the place where she had fallen. It would be, he explained, not only a convenience for their people, but a reminder to all of the folly of anger and hatred. “I have learned my lesson,” he said evenly, “and in a most painful way. It is not the kind of pain you suffered, Elanor, but it still cuts deeply.” He shifted slightly, and drew a deep breath. “In any case, I wish to contribute something new, something beautiful that will benefit others. This is an act of atonement. But the Lord and Lady say I must have your permission as well as Haldir’s.” He waited hopefully, watching the various fluctuations in her expression.

“You do not have to do this,” she said finally. “I am willing to forgive you as long as you have truly mended your ways. Time will be the surest measure of that.”

He smiled ruefully. “True enough, and I am grateful for your clemency. But building this bridge is something I very much wish to do.” He paused, adding with difficulty, “I am no longer a Sentinel and have no official duties. Therefore, I must find something useful to do with my time.”

“What of the Fences? Duty there does not suit you?”

He lifted his chin, aware of his own sensitivity on this matter. “I was not afraid, if that is what you are asking. But I am not a warden, and I have no sword. Haldir merely invited me to keep me away from you. I doubt he will repeat the invitation.”

Elanor absently smoothed her fingers over the dark green leaves of a nearby vine. “What will this bridge look like?”

“Would you care to see my design? I would be glad to show you.” In fact, he had shown it to no one other than Celeborn and Galadriel, but their reactions had been encouraging enough to give him confidence.

She acquiesced, and he retrieved it from inside his talan, returning to sit beside her once more while he unrolled the parchment that contained his drawing. He then pointed out all the features he’d attempted to sketch, the graceful wooden posts carved with interwoven vines, each connected with the next by an intricate pattern of braided ropes. At the top of each post was a recessed area into which the base of a small urn could be set, and into each urn would be placed an elanor plant.

“As a tribute to you,” he explained. He hoped it would please her, but pleasing her was not his only reason for adding the urns. This was not only a tribute, it was another form of apology, one meant to make at least partial reparation for the way he had treated her and the pain that he had caused.

She glanced up at him. “It will be beautiful, Lurien, but there is no reason to honor me like this. I have done nothing to deserve it.”

Lurien smiled. “You are modest, Elanor. If you like, we can say that it honors your actions. You risked your life to save the one you love, and almost lost your own.”

“But any of us would do that,” she protested.

“True,” he acknowledged. “We can put other flowers in the urns if you prefer. Perhaps elanor alternating with other blooms.”

“That would be lovely, Lurien. If you do indeed require my permission, then you have it. What did Haldir say about it?”

“He neither approved nor disapproved. I believe he desired your opinion before he chose his own.”

Elanor smiled. “Haldir, without an opinion? That is hard to believe.”

Lurien cocked a brow. “I daresay he had one he did not reveal.”

“I daresay,” she agreed, and took her leave.

~*~

Elrohir concealed a grin as Lana huffed and puffed up a new flight of stairs. They had dragged her from one person to another, introducing her to a variety of elves, all of whom had praised Elanor to Lana and expressed consternation at her recent injuries. She was obviously irritated, but she had also been introduced to a number of handsome, unmarried ellyn, and that had kept her happy enough. The fact that they took the most roundabout route to each of these ellyn was not made known to her; in one case they had led her halfway around the city to meet someone who had been located no more than a stone’s throw away!

“I am tired,” she wailed for the third time. “Can we not take a moment to rest?”

“First you must meet Sarnion,” Elrohir insisted with his most charming smile. “He asked about you just this morning, and made me promise to introduce him to your notice. He is dumbstruck by your beauty, but too shy to introduce himself.”

This was a secret joke between him and his brother, for they knew that Sarnion, a confirmed and rather brusque bachelor, would have no more interest in Lana than he would a Gondorian serving wench. Her beauty would not sway him; he was far too old and experienced for anything but an elleth’s character and disposition to weigh with him. If anyone could put Lana in her place, it would be Sarnion.

“He is very handsome,” Elrohir added slyly. “Quite a catch, in fact. He’s a warden, one of Haldir’s most trusted lieutenants.”

“A bit aloof,” Elladan added, “which is probably why the ellith find him so fascinating.”

Lana brushed back her golden hair. “What of that ellon, Lurien? He seems very mysterious.”

It was the third time she had mentioned Lurien, and Elrohir could see that she needed to be set straight. “He is not for you,” he said, with far more directness than he normally used. “For several reasons, all good ones.”

“What reasons?” she said with a pout.

Elrohir suppressed an urge to roll his eyes.

“Firstly,” he said, “he is in love with someone.” He did not know if the rumors were true, nor did he know if this would be a deterrent, but he did know they ought to direct Lana’s attention away from the wayward ex-sentinel, and that his father would have their heads if they did not.

“And,” Elladan continued, loyally backing up the story, “she is a sweet lady who has suffered enough on his behalf.”

“He is currently in disgrace for dishonorable doings,” Elrohir went on.

“It is he who fought Haldir, which makes him partly responsible for your sister’s near fatal accident,” Elladan added.

Lana eyed them both with disfavor. “I do not believe you. He seems so honorable and good. As for Elanor, I do not believe the story of her accident either. I think,”—here, she tossed her hair and put on that petulant look that so irritated him—“she exaggerated her injury to get sympathy. I think she did it to make Haldir feel sorry for being so mean to her.”

Elrohir exchanged a glance with his brother. At last, the opportunity they had been waiting for! “My dear Lana, your sister fell a great distance. Do you not realize that?”

Lana shrugged. “So, someone caught her. How bad could that be?”

“Would you like to see where she fell?” Elladan asked, ever so casually.

“Not really.” She shifted irritably. “I am tired, I told you that. Why do you not take me to meet this Sarnion? We can visit with him, and he can serve refreshments, which I sorely need.”

“Oh, but we are so close to where your sister fell,” Elrohir coaxed. “If you do not see it now, we will have to bring you back another day.”

“Why?” she asked mutinously.

“Because a dutiful and loving sister would be interested,” Elladan pointed out, “as I know you are, if you would just reflect upon it. After that, we will take you to meet Sarnion. I know he will be delighted to meet the beauteous maiden from Imladris whom he has only seen from afar.”

A myriad of expressions crossed Lana’s face, but finally she said, rather crossly, “Oh, very well, take me there. I might as well see it and get it over with.”

Elrohir smiled, and Elladan offered Lana his arm. She had been preening ever since they’d left the dining area, for she had ‘captured’ the attention of the sons of Elrond in view of all the Lórien ellith, something she obviously thought to be a victory of some kind. He and Elladan had deliberately flirted with the other ellith, hoping to goad Lana into accepting their offer to escort her around the city. She had taken the bait as he had known she would. However, their company appeared to wear thin whenever they were beyond the view of others.

Within a short time they came to the flet where the fight had ended with such a shocking event. “Here is where she fell,” Elladan said, pointing.

Lana gave a cursory glance, and then looked quickly away.

“Look again,” Elrohir commanded, stepping close to her. “You can see how far it is. Imagine how she must have felt.”

“I do not want to,” she said sulkily. “I want to go.”

“Not quite yet,” he said, with a slight smile. “I think a little lesson is called for right now.”

She gave him a sharp look. “Lesson?”

He caught hold of her wrists. “You dismiss your sister’s suffering far too lightly. Perhaps it is because you have not stood in her shoes.”

“Perchance if she were held over the edge it might give her some insight,” Elladan suggested helpfully.

“What a splendid idea,” Elrohir marveled. “What do you say, Lana? Shall I hold you over the edge?”

“I do not find you amusing!” she snapped.

He took a step forward, backing her to the very edge of the flet. “If you hung over the edge right here, then you would have a better understanding.”

“Too dangerous,” Elladan put in, peering downward. “The other side would be safer.”

“Safer!” Lana echoed indignantly. “You two are horrid! Let go of me!”

Elrohir smiled. “I think not.” Using his superior strength, he propelled her to the other side of the flet. “As my brother said, this is a safer place for our little experiment.”

And before she could even open her mouth, he had her dangling over the edge, his body braced so there was no possibility that he would lose her. She had dropped a bit, her thighs pressed against the flet’s outer edge, but he held her firmly by the upper arms, her face level with his waist.

“Beasts!” she shrieked, her hands clinging to him. “Wicked, wicked beasts!”

“You should not struggle,” he told her kindly. “It makes it more likely I will drop you before my brother has time to reach the flet below. Someone must be there to catch you when you fall.”

“What?” she gasped in outrage. “You must be joking!”

“Perhaps I am,” he teased. “Or perhaps not. It’s only three levels down.”

“Three levels!” she squealed. “You would not!”

“Of course I would. I trust my brother.”

A moment later he heard Elladan’s signal. “Ah, he is below now. Are you ready, fair one?”

“Why are you doing this?” she wailed. “Why do you hate me?”

Elrohir gazed deeply into Lana’s frightened blue eyes. “I do not hate you, darling. I want to teach you something. It may not be what you wish to learn, but it is what you ought to learn. Compassion, sensitivity, family loyalty—these are things I understand, so they are things I can teach.”

“I hate you!” She had stopped struggling, but her eyes were flashing. “Galadriel will banish you from Lórien! You will suffer for this!”

“I do not think my grandmother will banish me,” he said quietly, “but I cannot say the same for you if you do not learn your lessons.”

She glared at him, looking as though she would like to spit in his face.

“Ready?” he called down to Elladan, and received an affirmative.

“You will not drop me,” she moaned. “What if he does not catch me?”

“He will catch you, lovely one. It is not that far.” And with these words he let go . . . and with an easy grin, leaped over the edge after her.

He landed on the flet directly below, which was only one level down, contrary to what he had told Lana. Lana lay in Elladan’s arms, her face white and shocked.

A moment later she started to thrash and punch. “Put me down! You are beasts, both of you! Monsters! Snakes! Orcs!”

“Oh, come now,” Elladan protested, setting her on her feet. “I caught you, did I not?”

Lana shot him a venomous look and then slapped him across the face.

Elladan laughed.

Lana spun toward Elrohir, her hand raised.

“I am not as generous as my brother,” he warned. “Strike me and I will not laugh.”

She slapped him anyway. “I am not trying to make you laugh, Elrohir!”

Elrohir watched her as she whirled and ran away, leaving the two of them alone. “Well,” he remarked, “I am not so sure she learned anything.”

“Ah well,” Elladan drawled, “we could but try.”

~*~

Lana ran, half sobbing, as fast as she could away from them. She could hardly believe those dreadful twins had treated her so heartlessly! Then again, she ought to have expected it, for they had been nothing short of callous of her comfort during that horrendous journey to Lórien. She hated traveling! She had hated the journey from Imladris to Mirkwood, and she’d hated the journey from Mirkwood to Lothlórien. Part of her only wanted to go home, back to their little cottage in Imladris, but the thought of another journey so soon was unendurable. So for now she was trapped here, trapped in this vile land where everyone thought Elanor was some kind of hero!

Always it had been this way. Elanor always did everything better than she did, no matter what it was. Elanor was perfect in every way, beloved by all, preferred by her parents and friends. She’d even managed to attract Haldir, though how she had done so, Lana could not conceive. Elanor, Elanor, Elanor!

Lana ran blindly, not looking where she was going, down and up steps, across little bridges, past startled elves who watched her but said nothing and did nothing to stop her or help her. Everyone was against her! They all hated her!

This was her last thought before she fell, twisting her ankle as she tumbled down a short flight of steps. She lay, sobbing quietly, feeling sorry for herself and hoping the twins did not follow and find her. If they did, they would probably just laugh and toss her over the side again.

The experience they had just put her through had been horrifying. She had not wanted to believe in Elanor’s fall, and it had been so easy to imagine it was nothing more than an exaggeration invented to gain sympathy or escape. But all that had changed. Now she had no recourse but to imagine it, over and over; not only that, she was now forced to realize that she had truly almost lost her sister. She sobbed harder and wished she were dead.

“What is wrong, young elleth?” inquired a concerned male voice. “Why do you weep?”

Lana looked up to see a kindly face, the first she had seen in quite a while. “I f-fell,” she stammered. She sat up quickly, wondering if her face was blotched and dirty. Was her hair in disarray?

The fair-haired elf wore long silver robes and a somber expression, yet he seemed concerned about her, unlike anyone else in Caras Galadhon. “You are injured?” He bent to examine her.

“I twisted my ankle,” she murmured, gazing up at him through her lashes. He was rather nice looking, but his manner told her that he was an older elf, probably very experienced. Normally she would have flirted with him, but just now she was in no mood for it.

“Will you allow me to examine you? I am Hírion, premier healer of Lórien, second only to Lord Celeborn himself. I gather you are Elanor’s sister.”

Lana was impressed, although why this was so, she could not say. “Yes, I am Lanaewen of Imladris. Can you heal my ankle?” she added in a small voice.

Hírion’s fingers probed her injury. “’Tis but a slight sprain,” he pronounced. “Were you trained as a healer, you could heal this yourself easily enough.” He sounded reproachful, and once again she felt judged and inadequate.

“I am trained in nothing,” she said sullenly. “I do nothing useful at all.”

He frowned. “Why is that?”

“Because I am merely an ornament. Look at me,” she added, still feeling sorry for herself. “I am fit for nothing.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed, much to her surprise.

“Why is it nonsense?” She meant to sound testy, but somehow her curiosity came through.

“Watch and learn,” he instructed, with slight pomposity.

He laid his palms against her ankle, one on either side, and at once she felt heat and tingling. “How do you do that?” she asked in wonderment. Had she ever been treated by a healer before? She could not remember it. Had she ever been injured? Not since she was an elfling, and that was long ago.

“It takes training but it can be learned,” he said gruffly. “Some learn it more easily than others. Some have the gift.” A period of time passed before he spoke again. “How do you feel now?”

Lana rotated her foot, and found to her surprise that all the pain had gone away. “I am healed!” she exclaimed. “Thank you!”

He held out a hand to help her to her feet, and she took it, wondering what she would do now. “Will you show me the way to my talan? I fear I have gotten lost.”

“Yes, I will do that,” he said. “And then I must hasten away, for I have herbs to gather and potions to mix. Mind your steps now, young elleth. And no more falling.”

~*~

In the first days of her family’s visit, Elanor balanced her time between them and Haldir, making sure to create opportunities for them to meet and come to know each other. She did not know how long her parents would linger in Lórien, but she sensed that they were not altogether at ease in this place where she now felt so at home. They did seem to like and accept Haldir, and he was cordial enough toward them, so all in all, things were going far better than expected.

In truth it was wonderful to be with her family again, under circumstances where she felt more independent than she had ever felt back in Imladris. And even though she was Galadriel’s ward, the Lady seemed disinclined to require additional duties of her beyond the tending of her garden. Galadriel did send for her more often, granting her more of her time, but their conversations were apt to be pleasant and brief inquiries into the state of Elanor’s well-being rather than instructional dialogues, although she did occasionally offer a word of advice.

As for Lana, at first she had continued to behave as she always had, wanting Elanor to mend her skirt or spend time with her unless one of the Lórien ellon happened by. At such times Lana was very much her usual self, simpering and flirting and trying to attract their notice, which she usually achieved. And then she would be off with her new ‘conquest’ as she called them.

Yet between Elanor and Lana there was a new tension, one that Elanor did not fully understand.

One conversation in particular stood out in Elanor’s mind. It had taken place during the earlier part of the week. Their parents had gone for an evening stroll, but Lana had stayed with Elanor, sitting on the terrace of the guest talan while the dusk gradually gathered.

“Elanor,” Lana had said, “I understand now what happened to you. I do not mean I fully understand why you fell, but I now understand how frightening it was.”

Elanor had looked up from some mending she was doing, not for Lana, but for Haldir. “What makes you say that?”

Lana had gone on to confide what Elrohir and Elladan had done to her. “They are hateful and horrid, and I loathe them,” she ended vehemently.

Elanor shook her head helplessly. “I do not know what to say, Lana. It was very wrong of them and they should not have done it.”

Lana nodded. “Indeed it was. Will you say something to Lady Galadriel about it? I dare not, but they should pay for what they did to me.”

Elanor considered this for a long moment. “Lana, I really do not think I should. Have you spoken of this to Ada or Naneth?”

“I started to tell Ada, but we were interrupted. Two handsome ellyn came along and wished to escort me for a walk in the gardens.” Lana looked triumphant. “Already I am as popular here as I was in Mirkwood!”

“Then do you wish me to speak to Ada about it?” Elanor inquired with sinking spirits. The last thing she wanted to do was start a new scandal here in her adopted land.

“I want you to talk to Galadriel!” Lana snapped. “She is *your* guardian, is she not? I am sure she should be interested in the doings of her own odious grandsons! You must know that Ada will do nothing. They teased me mercilessly on the journey and he never said a word to them!”

“Perhaps you should simply let this go,” Elanor replied. “You came to no harm, after all.”

Lana’s jaw thrust out. “Are you saying you will not do as I ask?” she said dangerously.

“I am saying that I do not feel it is appropriate for me to go to Galadriel with your complaint. You ought to speak to Ada about it and discover his thoughts on the matter. Perhaps he will speak to the Lady himself.”

Lana leaped to her feet, her face flushed with fury. “I see how this is! You have your place here and you do not want me to share it! Never mind the fact that I have no home at the moment, and no ellon who loves me! You want it all for yourself, just as you always have!”

Appalled, Elanor also rose. “That is untrue and unjust,” she replied, calmly and steadily.

Lana’s pretty lips sneered. “You may deny it all you like, but it is clear to me now. You are tired of me and wish to be rid of me. You love all these Lórien elves more than you do your own family! I am only an inconvenience!”

And with that unfair statement, she left in an angry whirl of skirts.

They had scarcely spoken since. Lana had kept her distance and Elanor had heeded Haldir’s advice, which was to wait until her sister got over her tantrum before she tried to talk to her again. Since then, Haldir had returned to the Fences, albeit with reluctance to leave her side.

Elanor sighed and prayed once more for his continued safety. At least she could feel him through the indwaedh and knew he was alive and well.

~*~

Healea sat on the narrow stone bench, enjoying the warm beams of sunlight slanting downward through the leaves while she observed the couple who walked across the bridge not so far above her. She could hear their voices quite clearly from here, though she could not understand what these two could have in common. It was the oddest pairing she would ever have imagined.

"Do you not find the heights disturbing?" she heard Elanor's sister ask with an air of unease. Healea shifted curiously, angling her head to study the young Imladris elleth. They had not yet been introduced, but Healea and her friends had been observing her since her arrival and were not at all impressed.

Hírion guided her gently away from the edge. “Why would we find it disconcerting, little one?” The touch of amusement in his voice surprised Healea. “We are Silvan elves. The trees are our home.”

The healer, usually quite dour and humorless, appeared to be enjoying his stroll with Lana. Healea narrowed her eyes. She found little to admire about the elleth from Imladris; rather, she wondered how Elanor endured have such a twit for a sister. From what she had heard, this Lanaewen seemed to enjoy complaining more than anything else. Well, almost. Healea’s lip curled with disdain as she considered the reputation Lana was slowly building. The little sister was proving to be the bold and foolish hussy she’d expected Elanor to be!

Had Lanaewen chosen Hírion as her companion, or had the stern healer been coerced into escorting the wayward female? Healea could hardly believe he would volunteer.

"In view of my sister’s fall,” she heard Lana reply, “I would think it quite obvious. I think it quite unsafe, myself. Many of these stairways have no railings."

Hírion offered her his arm to steady her, drawing her closer as they began to descend the staircase that wrapped around the large mallorn. "The paths in these forests are like the ones in our lives." He glanced down at her with a gentle smile. "Whether they are high in the trees or on the ground, there are many ways each of us can falter and fall, but also many ways each of us can walk them safely and with joy. The choice is ours."

Healea rose as they disappeared behind the far side of the massive trunk, shaking her head at Hírion’s reply. That elf was always trying to teach, even when the subject was unrelated to healing. Then again, she supposed it was another form of healing, though she doubted foolish Lana saw any wisdom in his answer.

The pair rounded the bend, emerging into sight just as Healea was about to walk away. However, she changed her mind when she saw the way Lana tightened her grip on Hírion’s arm and stared down at her. “Who is *that*?” she asked in an undertone that carried farther than she probably realized.

For a moment Healea was startled by her hostile tone, and then the reason for it occurred to her. The little fool saw her as a rival. No one could deny Lanaewen’s exceptional beauty, but it appeared that she was insecure. Healea had never been insecure. She had once been rather vain, but that was a flaw she had corrected in herself a long time ago, with Cothion’s help.

Seeing Healea, Hírion gave her an amiable nod. “Good day, Healea. Have you met Elanor’s sister yet? Lanaewen, this is Healea. She was once a student of mine, and is now a talented healer among many other things.”

“I am Lanaewen of Imladris,” Lana added coolly, looking down her nose at Healea.

Healea gazed back haughtily, much as she had once done with Elanor. "I know who you are," she drawled, her tone not making it a compliment.

Lana's brows drew together, but Healea did not give her any time to respond, but instead turned to Hírion. “I have a message for you from Lady Galadriel, Master Hírion. She wishes you to attend to her on a matter of some importance.” She hoped Galadriel would forgive her for this small lie.

Hírion sighed and looked at Lanaewen. "Then I must go at once, but I would enjoy showing you my herb garden later, if you would like. I have some particularly fine elderberry bushes, and of course my comfrey is used in all Lórien healing poultices.” He paused for a moment, and then seemed unable to resist adding, “Comfrey and fennel are both important ingredients in that mixture, as well as lady’s mantle. And I feel sure you will wish to see my vervain.”

Healea hid her surprise. Hírion, a confirmed bachelor, rarely showed this much interest in any elleth who was not his student! It was unheard of. And yet she sensed the interest was not romantic even if it appeared so to Lana. Hírion was always on the lookout for a new student.

Lana smiled meekly at the healer and fluttered her lashes. "How very kind you are, sir. I would enjoy that."

Hírion looked pleased, and then with a quick nod at Healea, he hurried away up the staircase he had just descended.

Lana smoothed her skirts with a practiced motion and sent Healea a superior smile. “You wished to speak to me?”

“Not at all,” Healea said languidly. “Why would I?”

Lana moved over to the bench Healea had vacated and sat down, placing her feet together neatly. "Well, what am I to do now that you have disposed of my escort? I do not know my way around this place.”

"Perhaps I would tell you if you asked politely.”

"I will find another ellon," Lana said peevishly, “although it should be Elanor attending me. I do not know why she ignores me so. It was never this way before she came *here*.” She sighed as though she suffered terribly and all of Arda conspired against her.

Healea studied her, wondering how she and Elanor could possibly be sisters. “Elanor is likely occupied at the moment. She does have responsibilities here, though her strength has not yet returned in full. It remains important that she does not overexert herself."

Lana uttered a sharp laugh. "Elanor, overexert herself? How would she do that? She does nothing but garden and sew.” Her voice trailed off as Healea's gaze sliced into her.

“It might interest you to know that Elanor is highly respected here,” Healea informed her coldly. “In fact, she tends Lady Galadriel's garden, and that is a very high honor."

“Pushing dirt around is a high honor?" Lana retorted.

Healea unsheathed her claws. “Indeed it is. You know, Lanaewen, I have heard a great deal about you since your arrival, and none of it is good. The lack of respect you show your sister does you no credit.”

"How dare you!” Lana gasped.

“I wonder if you have ever taken the trouble to know Elanor,” Healea commented. “Somehow I doubt it. You appear to be only concerned with yourself.” She moved to stand directly in front of Lana, taking on a warrior’s stance. "Your sister has found her true self here in Lórien. She has bloomed like her namesake, unfurling her petals so that she can be who she was born to be. Elanor happens to be my friend, and I stand by my friends. I will not have your ruining Elanor's life here. You do not have that right.”

“I . . . I will speak to Galadriel! You cannot say such things to me! I am a guest here!”

“Then behave as a guest rather than an impertinent and spoilt child who brings nothing but disgrace on her name and that of her land and family.” Lana shrank back as Healea moved even closer, her face near the younger elleth’s. “I will not harm you, Lana, but I may make sure that others see you as I do. Think about that, before you make any more attempts to disparage her. Oh, yes, I have heard tales of your comments, sprinkled here and there like poison among my people. It ends now, do you hear? Think long and hard, my fine lady, and remember this: I do not threaten. I promise.”

“You are worse than the twins! I do not know what I did to deserve such wicked treatment! I was told that I would find goodness and beauty here--”

"You can see beauty and goodness if you yourself have it in your heart,” Healea informed her in a hard voice. “Yet I wonder if you have a heart."

Lana stared at her, her eyes wide and her face pale. “I was not treated this way in Mirkwood."

“Then perhaps you should return there,” Healea replied tersely.

Lana's lower lip trembled. “I have done nothing to deserve this treatment.”

Healea gave her an unpleasant smile. "You should pause and think before you insult Lórien and its people. Word travels quickly, my dear. We knew what you were before you even arrived in Caras Galadhon."

~*~

Iriel and Eluon stood on the highest observation flet in the city, holding hands and gazing upward at the stars. They glistened like teardrops, reminding Iriel of all the times that she had failed as a mother.

“Why has it assailed us in this way?” she asked in a near whisper. “Others do not feel it as we do.”

“Some do,” Eluon reminded her. “Some left long ago.”

“My sister in Mirkwood does not feel it. She begs me to stay.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

“I cannot focus on anything else for very long. Not even our daughters.” A guilty tear trickled down Iriel’s cheek. “I wish it was not like this. I do not want to leave them behind and yet I must.”

“Not yet,” Eluon said firmly. “Not until they have both chosen their path.”

“Lana is so young. Why does she not grow up? I thought she would if we left her with Elanor.”

“A miscalculation on our parts,” Eluon said dryly. “Yet Elanor’s path seems clear. She will marry the warden.”

“So I hope. He seems like a fine ellon, strong and able and caring. A pity he must put his life so much at risk.”

“He is strong, he will survive. Eventually he will bring Elanor to the Undying Lands. We will see them both again. With luck they will give us grandchildren.”

“But what of Lanaewen?” Iriel said sorrowfully. “What would become of her if we left now? We cannot leave her as she is, and I cannot take her back to my sister. They detested each other. And I do not think that young Gelion was at all right for her. All he did was feed her vanity.”

Eluon sighed and agreed.

Silently, they watched the stars.

After a while Iriel spoke again. “We must be strong, my love. We cannot allow ourselves to fade. I want a future with you, in the West where we belong.”

“We will not fade,” Eluon said. “A solution will present itself. We will find a way to sail, I promise.” He lifted Iriel’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

Reassured, Iriel smiled. Her husband always kept his promises.

[tbc]

A/N: Feedback very much appreciated. We are inching toward the finish line on this story and need encouragement!

*