Chasing the Stars ☾ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝 / 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚜

~CHAPTER 8~

T. A. 2841
Imladris and Misty Mountains

"𝔽anyawen," called a distant voice.

"Fanyawen," it called again. In her mind it slowly registered it was Arwen.

"Oh come on, why are you so gentle. Look she's still dead asleep,"

"Can we do it out way now?"

Elladan and Elrohir. Who else could it possibly be, she thought.

"If you even try, I swear to Valar, I'll personally throw you in Bruinen," threatened Fanyawen. Instantly she heard two people moving as far away from her bed as possible. She smirked and opened her eyes.

"Are you stupid or something? The sun hasn't even fully risen yet and besides, how did you get in? I, very clearly, remember locking the door last night, because of this exact reason," she said and gestured to the three of them.

"It's not our fault you sleep with an open window, gwathel," (sister) jokingly said Elrohir. The next second he had a dagger flying past his head, missing him only by centimetres and embedding itself in a wall behind him.

"By the Vala! What was that for?" He asked, completely freaked out.

"For being an ass," was Fanyawen's simple answer.

"Now get out you two, Arwen will help me dress, then we'll join you," she ordered and started pushing them out of her room. Once she closed the door she turned to Arwen.

"Amm, where are my clothes?" She asked, with a blush covering her cheeks.

"On the chair," laughed her best friend.

Fanyawen put on her black travelling clothes. Firstly she put on a pair of leggings, then her white undershirt and lightly tied the small strings. She out on her black shirt and fastened it with a belt. Then she put on her vambraces,  her low boots and with a black brooch clipped her cape around her neck. She soon realised that all of her clothes were repaired as were her weapons. She stripped on her  newly polished and sharpened swords, daggers and throwing knives. She also put on her quiver and bow.

"Are you sure you need all of this," asked her Arwen, a doubtful look on her face gesturing to her weapons. P

"Yes. Yes, course. Your brothers are so very unpredictable that you can never be armed enough," she explained while making wise faces "and they still owe me a fight," she said, smirked and walked out the room with Arwen hot on her heels.

_____

"... and then the Dwarves just fell through his doors. It was so hilarious," Fanyawen said between fits of laugher.

She, Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen were in her room, drinking wine while telling each other of everything that happened to them in the years they were apart. Fanyawen just started telling them of her adventure when she was interrupted by a light knock on her doors. She stood up and went to open them.

"I see you're having fun," said Elrond, stretching his neck to see in what state his children were.

"Elrond, we have a problem," said Fanyawen in a tone, very much different from before.

"And what might that be?" Asked Elrond not treating her seriously.

"Your children have such a low tolerance for alcohol. I mean, seriously, look at them and we drank only six bottles. What are you giving them? Juices?" She asked, her determined mask already cracking.

"All right, you three, out. Go to your rooms and sober up," said Elrond, laughing at his, supposedly, grown up children.

When they were gone he turned his attention back to Fanyawen and became serious again as did she.