The young elven female flowed down the ornately carved halls, panels glistening with the years of magical touch, beautiful and,normally,calming here within the private quarters of one of the princely families of Calethria.  Singing softly to herself, she glanced into various rooms as she passed, slowing only long enough to determine if what, or who, she sought was within.  This morning was one of the free learning periods, in which no specific tasks awaited her, no court duties, no learned treatises on this or that realm of the world, and so she wished to practice dancing, but she could not find her normal partner.  He had not been at breakfast with the family, and she did not want to ask anyone if they had seen him.  So she glided through the halls, singing softly to herself, barely noticing the few elves that helped care for the large quarters in her father’s service, not because they were beneath notice, but because she was nearly lost in song and dance, and intent on her search.

Increasingly frustrated, she could not find him in the normal study, or in the private training yard, practicing as he often did with his weapons with Sir Kyrelian, her father’s old friend, one of Elyrienne’s favorite activities.  While Elyrienne had only been here a few years fostering with her father, they had grown quite close, often getting into the same trouble as true siblings could.   It was quite a different relationship than that she had with her true brother, Lerellian.  It was not that there was trouble between the two, it was more the fact that Lerellian was often gone in accordance with his duties, and they were over a century apart in age.  She loved Lerellian dearly, but he was so much older, and busy.  She and Elyrienne, with barely a couple of years separating them, studied history and the ways of the Valar together, and read poetry, and danced, sang, searched the keep in fun or in secret, snuck away from the guards and court together, and generally spent a good deal of any day together.  She especially enjoyed Elyrienne’s poetry, and he loved to listen to her flute.   Although right now she was quickly getting annoyed since they quite often spent such free time exploring the forest, and had expected him to meet her at breakfast.  What she did not realize was that her singing was becoming louder and more martial, a sure sign to those who knew that her temper was beginning to flare.

At long last, she ducked into her father’s private library, more out of thoroughness than any expectation of actually finding Elyrienne studying a book, or at least one that had little to do with the arcane, and came to an abrupt stop.  He was actually there, engrossed in what appeared to be one of the oldest tomes.  

“Elyrienne,” she stated in a disapproving tone.   A moment passed, then another, and when he did not respond, in a much more demanding voice, “Elyrienne!”

“What?,” he responded as he tore his gaze away.  “Why are you up at this hour Shinelian? I thought you had gone to rest.”

“To rest? What do you mean to rest? Its past breakfast, and we have the day off and I thought we could go out into the glades surrounding the city.  Have you been up all night?  What are you reading?” she questioned with some exasperation.

“I found this as I was looking through the library tonight, well….ah…, I guess last night as I was looking for a book your father had told me about regarding famous battles with the dark ones.  This tome, though, has caught my attention and has been extremely fascinating.  It is a compilation of myths and prophecies for many different races across the world.  None of them make much sense, but I guess I must have gotten caught up in trying to decipher them.  I thought maybe it might have mention of a particular legend my mother had shown me, but it doesn’t.  It has been fun reading though,” frowning briefly. “I have also been reading this work on the orders of the megilindar.  I am sorry I missed breakfast, maybe I can sneak something out on our way out, you know that Artenia loves my mischievous smile,” and he grinned crookedly.  “Was there anywhere in particular you wanted to go?” he asked as he shut the book, got to his feet and returned it to the shelves.

“I wanted to see if we could find any wild elderberry vines in bloom.  Mother was going to teach me how to turn the early blooms into a powder that can then be stored and later used for an aromatic, plus I thought maybe you might want to practice some of the court dances with me.”

“Only if you bring your flute too,” he replied, knowing that she rarely went anywhere without it.

“Then you will have to dance to whatever I decide to play.”

“Hmmm.  I suppose I could do that,” and continuing on, “but only if we can go swimming too.”

“Well, then we better get going if we are going to have time to do all that.   You know we have to be back tonight for the court dinner that father is hosting for all of the ruling council and their families,” Shinelian.

“Oh yes, how could I possibly forget?” he muttered.  

“What did you say?” she asked.

“I said it will be great fun,” replied Elyrienne.  Shinelian stared at him, waiting, knowing that was not what he had said, but getting no further comment.  “Let us race to the glades of mirroring then, and find what we can of wild elderberry,” he said laughingly before sprinting past her out the door and down the halls.

 

Later that afternoon, after having found half a dozen early elderberry blooms, and practiced the salka ir rante and the salke ir arhedel for nearly an hour each, interspersed with the rambunctious tunes she was learning of D’un Elundre, they swam through one of the famous heated pools of Calethria, relaxing in the warm water, cleansing the sweat and refreshing the tired muscles from the dance, watching as the suns slowly arced across the sky, wasting away the time until they needed to return to prepare for the formal court dinner, chatting of this and that, and soaking in the beauty of spring.

“When is your brother coming home again?”

“I have no idea, he has not sent word that I am aware.  I suppose sometime later this fall, he usually tries to return for the Eshendii festival prior to the last major harvest, unless his duties take him elsewhere.  Why?”

“I thought I might ask him to train me to be a megilindir. Do you think that he would do that for me, at least in a few years?”

Shinelian frowned, “I do not know if he is high enough in rank yet to offer the apprentice training, but you could ask.  Why would you want to? Mother says it can change one, that some of the megilandar are way too serious after they complete their training, that they take too much of the burden of the people onto their shoulders.  Have you told Father?” she asked more quickly, “have you told your parents, your sister?”

“I did not wish to discuss it with anyone until I knew whether or not I would be accepted.  I know that I am too young yet to begin, but training often begins for those a few years older, according to what I have been told, and some of the family histories I had read before I came to foster with your father.”

Sadly, she said, “It would sorrow my heart to see you begin your training, for we would be able to spend little time with each other, not nearly as much as we do now.”

“I know, but it would only be for a few decades, and I had hoped that the training could be conducted near here, in fact I assumed that your father may mandate that since he promised to foster me here at court.  Of course the training is very difficult, but I believe many of the skills that are required can be practiced at court.  Not the learning of the bladesong of course, but knowledge of realms and diplomacy and many such other things.  Perhaps no better teacher for those areas than the court,” he said softly.  “I have thought of little else since I was old enough to read the stories for myself.  We would still get to see each other, plus I sort of promised your father that I would serve as his aide for some period of time with the Royal Guard too.  Perhaps it will all be too much to handle, but it is something I believe the Valar have called on me to perform.

“Would you like me to ask Lerellian in a letter?” she asked, secretly hoping Elyrienne would say no.

“No,” he said, missing her quick look of satisfaction, “it is something I need to ask him myself.  I will wait until an opportunity arises whenever he returns.  There is plenty of things to do in the meantime, and it is not like our lessons would not be applicable should the time arise,” he said brightly, again missing the quick expression that crossed her face, this time in disappointment.  

“Well, we had better return or else we will be late and in trouble again,” Shinelian said after a few moments, a slight strain of hurt emotion in her tone, that Elyrienne failed yet again to recognize.  Hurt because he had never ever discussed it with her before in the half a dozen years that he had been here.  She quickly jumped out of the pool, singing a brief note of song to magically dry her body, and dressed quickly in the light gown which she had worn.  

“Of course,” Elyrienne said, climbing up the rock steps much more slowly, if no less gracefully, and with a wave of his hand, and an arcane explanation, drying his body as well before dressing before quickly walking after her, wondering what he did wrong this time, having finally recognized that he was in trouble again with his best friend in all the world.