Daughter Of Lórien || Book 1||

Ch 16 ~ Twin Trouble

I roll my eyes at the both of them. "Don't look at me, he offered."

Elrohir raises his eyebrows.

"Of course, that was after I nearly knocked him off his feet heading in the wrong direction," I say with a shrug and a smirk.

I hear a chuckle come from Elladan. I turn to him, my eyes catching on his elevated foot and piquing my curiosity.

"How exactly did that happen?"

Elladan glances at his leg, letting out a long breath. "It's a long story."

I glance at the sun, still high in the sky, and stretching out on Elrohir's bed, tuck my hands behind my blonde head. "So start telling."

Giving me a grin, he jumps into the story. I spend the rest of the afternoon listening to the stories of what happened to them in the week we were apart. As the sun begins to dip below the trees, I raise myself from the bed, straightening my dress.

"Well I should probably go, you two need your rest," I say, making my way to the door.

The sound of Elladan clearing his throat stops me and I turn back to them to see him giving Elrohir a pointed look.

"Oh," he starts, "we forgot to ask-"

"Well, we have been a bit preoccupied," cuts in Elladan, gesturing to his leg with a grin.

"But," Elrohir continues, with a mischievous grin. "How exactly did our darling little sister get here all by herself?

"Its not like you've been here before, unlike we, who have," Elladan continues.

"Many times," Elrohir adds in.

I grimace as dread begins to pool in my stomach with the recollection of that particular memory.

"You sure you want to hear that story?"

Elrohir just raises an eyebrow.

"Why would we not want to hear it?" he asks, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

Here goes nothing.

Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, Elrohir seated beside me and Elladan spread out on his own bed, I reluctantly begin the story of my 'warm' welcome upon arriving at the Woodland Kingdom.

~~~

"He did what!?"

Elrohir's voice jars me as I reach the part of my story about the week I spent in the dungeons and the duel that followed. He's on his feet, his face twisted with fury.

"Calm down Elrohir, it's fine now," I say lazily, giving him a wave of my hand. His head snaps to me, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Its not fine Celé, that bastard held you locked up for a week! A week! And then he made you prove yourself-" His hands tremble with anger. "-prove yourself like some-"

I bristle with annoyance, my voice slipping into a scolding tone.

"Elrohir, I'm trying to tell a story-"

He snarls, his fingers folding into fists.

"I'll ruin his face for that, and I don't need any weapons to do it."

My short temper snaps and I growl back at him, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "Oh yes, I see Ada's teachings have not been wasted on you. That's the first rule of diplomacy: when angry, use your fists."

A growl sounds from the back of his throat and I scowl back.

"For the Valar's sake, that's enough, both of you!"

Elladan's stern face comes between us before we can rip each other apart.

"Elrohir, calm down. You're not supposed to be the hot-headed one, that's Celé's job. And you-" His glare turns to me. "Why didn't you mention this to us before?"

I bare my teeth at him. "I'm a big girl Elladan, I can fight my own battles. I handled it just fine."

"And besides," I say, lifting my chin and crossing my arms. "As you said yourself, you were preoccupied."

They both freeze. I watch as both their faces go cold.

"What is that?"

Elladan's eyes are now murderous as he holds my gaze, his words soft but dangerous. I shift away, confused at his sudden change in attitude, but then notice his cold stare fixated on the base of my jaw. No, not my jaw. Just below it, on my neck... at the still-healing scar there. The scar from my duel.

Given to me by the Prince.

A shiver of fear runs down my spine, not for myself, but for the elf prince who had held his blade to my throat a mere couple of days ago. I try to dismiss the wound as a careless scratch.

"Oh, that. That's an old scar. It's been there for ages," I lie, raising a nonchalant hand to my neck, attempting to feign indifference. I angle my head down, trying to cover the scar from their calculating gaze. Their eyes stay pinned on it.

Elrohir comes up to me and forcefully lifts my chin, doing a quick assessment of the thin, blood-sealed mark trailing along the line of my jaw. I hiss at his rashness, his actions causing the thin healed layer over the cut to pull painfully at my skin. Elrohir glares at me.

"That's not an old scar, Celé... that's quite recent." His grey eyes are cold. "Too recent."

I see Elladan's eyes harden with anger behind him and watch in hidden horror as the most level-headed of my siblings spirals into uncontrollable rage. My brothers step away from me, both of them slipping into a killing-calm as they realize who had given me that near-fatal scar.

Elladan's stone-cold eyes meet mine, his face harsh and unforgiving; a face I have only seen him express on battlefields.

"No one hurts our little sister." His voice is a soft snarl.

"I'm going to kill that Woodland Prince."