Seeing Double...

We trudge on cheerfully, much heartened by the laughter and fun from the previous day. I woke this morning thankfully early, on the small hill we had made our rest on.

I stretched and yawned, somewhat sore from yesterday's glorious water fight. And rubbed my eyes to make sure I was not dreaming.

Snow capped peaks were visible in the distance! My heart leaped at the thought of snow, and that we were making fine progress. Then my day - so new-begun - took a turn for the better.

"Aiya, (hail!) Wyn!"

Elladan or Elrohir (I could not tell), called out to me merrily, from a large craggy rock where he was perched - scouting the weather no doubt, with his keen elven eyes.

I halted in amazement, my hands stilling. Surely he did not just address me? I looked around and saw that no one else had risen. Even Legolas was still in his elvish dreams. The other twin was nowhere to be seen.

I turned back to the elf on the rock who was watching me curiously. I wondered if he realized this was the first he (or his brother) had spoken to me. After Lira and I were rescued, they had mainly spoken only to Elena, Legolas and the Rangers. I had grown used to my seemingly invisible presence before them.

They had not said much, even yesterday, but laughed a great deal, rather. He and his brother had splashed me joyfully during the water fight and they had even swung me into the water.

He was still watching me patiently. I smiled back at him friendly, and was shocked again as he half stepped off his perch and beckoned to me with a slim finger. Trying to swallow my heart, which suddenly seemed to have leapt in to my mouth, I made my way to his side without tripping which was astonishing in itself.

He smiled at me and patted the rock beside him. I sat obediently, a very happy bubble of sheer giggling-ish rising within me. I managed, heroically, to stifle it and put on a mature front.

"This is the first you have awoken early, to my knowledge," he observed with a smile.

I ducked my head apologetically, my cheeks warm. I was no morning bird, but rather a night owl. After a few days Rosriel had kindly offered to wake me. To my relief it had been easy; she needed only to shake me and I was conscious.

"Yes," I said. "I do love waking early, contrary to the Fellowship's belief; I simply have difficulty falling asleep."

He laughed at that.

"Where is your brother?" I asked curiously, hoping to hear a name, and thus, solve the puzzle.

"Somewhere gathering herbs for Elena," the elf replied.

Defeated, I opened my mouth. "Are you Elrohir or Elladan?"

The elf winked at me. "The former."

"Ah," I said, satisfied.

Elrohir drew his legs up thoughtfully and rested his chin on his folded arms. "Tell me about yourself," he said in a clear voice. "I know nothing of you, save your name."

"Alright," I stammered, surprised at his request. I slid off and sat on the ground, my back against the rock, feeling more comfortable.

"Um, I live between the Shire and Lotherien with my family," I began slowly, playing with the damp grass with my fingers. "I have many siblings, and even more cousins..."

I continued, undisturbed. I spoke more of my family and the woods where we played. He seemed interested and wanted to learn more.

"What do you do in the woods?"

"Sit in the trees," I confessed sheepishly.

My companion found that amusing and chuckled, pressing me for more.

"I usually read or sing. Sometimes, well - most of the time - I write in the book my father gave me." My eyes flickered to my pack where it lay and I thought of my newest entries of the Fellowship.

I felt Elrohir stir, but moved my eyes to the peaks. I was slowly feeling comfortable with nary a drop of my usual shyness. If I turned to look at him, I'd probably lose my courage altogether. I was nervous for I was not quite used to speaking alone with a male, much less an elf.

I told him of the little talan my siblings and I had made with our father in one of our trees. "We each have a little part, a shelf for each of us. I filled mine with my bow, books and little pots of herbs."

"You practice archery?" Elrohir sounded surprised.

"I am no Thranduilion," I rolled my eyes, "but I can shoot. Not very well admittedly, but I can."

He grinned.

"We are very fond of it. Our talan, I mean. 'Tis our own little home. Or elven hole if you will. I have a Hobbit hole as well, beneath the roots of the tree. I keep pots and pans there and cook a meal for us sometimes."

"Soup?" the elf interrupted merrily, with raised eyebrows.

"All the time," I said gravely, failing miserably to keep a grin from my face.

"Poor Dior," he laughed, his eyes following his train of thought to the snoring dwarf asleep by the fire.

I giggled. "Rose and Lira are being very stubborn, aren’t they?"

He rolled his eyes. "Such Elves."