Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I only own Emma, Durin the dog, Fingon the fish, and Thranduil the parrot. Although, even my OC's are petitioning for freedom.

Big thanks to CrackinAndProudOfIt for being my amazing beta, she always does a brilliant job. You should all check out her stories, they're phenomenal!

Thank you to all those who have reviewed, followed, faved or even read the story. Any notification I receive is just as good as eating a big bowl of ice cream! I really appreciate it! Cheers! :D

The sun shone through the curtains, awakening Ian, who rubbed his eyes and stretched out. Hearing a loud thud, he sat up quickly to see that Zane had landed in an unceremonious heap on the ground.

"You didn't have to-" Zane started, only to slump back to the floor in sleep.

Ian furrowed his brow at his twin; Zane had never been a morning person. Standing up, Ian opened the curtains and looked out at the ocean. With a grin on his face, he turned to his brother and, shaking him awake exclaimed, "Get your board. Surf's up!"

One of the perks of living in Pensacola was having the ocean for a backyard. He grabbed their wet suits out of the closet. Grabbing his surfboard as well, he ran out of the room, hitting poor Zane on the head as he tried to stand up.

Emma looked up in surprise to see Ian bound down the stairs, creating a rather large ruckus in his wake. Poor Thranduil had begun squawking up a storm, which in turn put Durin the dog on the defense.

What surprised her most, though, was that Ian looked healthy. Gone were the bags under his eyes, his once sallow complexion looked vivacious. Looking up, she saw Zane grumbling as he dragged a towel down the stairs. "At least I don't hit people over the head." He mumbled as he took a seat at the counter and looked expectantly at his mother for food.

"How did you sleep?" she asked with unmasked amusement as she handed her son a plate of toast and bacon.

"Urgh," Zane mumbled as he chewed his toast. Taking a drink of orange juice, he scowled. "Ian kicks in his sleep."

"Well you'd better hurry or you'll lose the best waves," she commented. "Finish your food and I'll grab my board. Oh, would you mind telling the elves we'll be at the beach?"

"I'll do it!" Looking up, Emma saw Ian take a bite of an apple before running out of the room humming to himself.

"What's with him?" Zane asked. "Mr. Sunshine doesn't have to be so cheery."

Emma pursed her lips. "Ian does seem to be in a rather good mood this morn."

Zane looked at his mother with disgust. "See, you do talk like them," he pointed out.

"The proper word is 'speak,'" Fingolfin reprimanded as he walked into the room. "From what I gather, your son has announced that we will be 'catching the wave'?"

"Dude, I'm so amped for this," Ian said, jumping up and down behind the King of the Noldor. "Have you never surfed before?"

"I am afraid I have not." Noting the disappointed look on the child's face, he continued, "Though I would be happy to learn."

Ian let out a whoop of joy before, grabbing toast and gulping down orange juice, he ran out the back door. "Beat ya to the water!"

"Wait for me, you numbskull!" Zane shook the last bits of sleep from his eyes and ran up his room to grab his things, leaving a confused Emma and amused Fingolfin to stare after the twins.

"Uh, would you like some breakfast?" Walking to the fridge, she pulled out a bottle of cranberry juice and set it on the counter.

"I have already eaten, but thank you." Walking to the back door, he mused, "This world has changed. Your son Ian, is he alright?"

Emma set down her glass of juice and looked out the window. "The world is always changing." Taking a breath, she continued, "I am not sure what to think of Ian. There are days that I know who he is, and then the next I don't."

"Children are often like that. Ian is very similar to my son Turgon. " Smiling, he continued, "Zane is similar to my eldest, Fingon, and he is not scaly."

Emma smiled as she realized the reference to Fingon the goldfish, who was happily swimming in his tank. "No, I suppose he is not."

"Do not fear change," Fingolfin said to the young adaneth. "It is not always unwelcome. Your sons are only growing up."

"It scares me." Folding her arms, she looked out to see her boys scrubbing their surfboards. "At times it seems as though they are older than they appear. Their eyes are old. Do you think-" She shook her head. "Never mind."

Fingolfin narrowed his eyes as the young woman chewed her fingernail, a habit that many edain seemed to share. She appeared to remember something and said, "I have a test to write. Would you mind watching them?"

"Not at all," he replied as Emma nodded in thanks. He noted the many thoughts, confusion, wonder, memories and emotions that seemed to whirl through her mind.

"Thank you." She spoke absentmindedly, twisting the ring on her finger. "I'll be back soon. Oh, and they do tend to become quite boisterous near the water," she marked as she left the room.

Laughing, Fingolfin turned to his younger brother, who had entered the room. "Zane is correct. She is beginning to speak like us." Noticing the absence of Finarfin's ever-present notepad and pen, he queried, "Where is your notepad?"

"Some things are best left unwritten. She is remembering," he marked. "It is too soon. Have you seen the ring on her finger?"

"Do not bring it up. As you said some things are best left alone. Does Fëanáro know?"

"I would not be surprised," Finarfin said as he handed his elder brother a beach towel. "I see you are taking the twins up on their offer as I am." He motioned to the swimwear they were wearing. "It's time we learn how to surf."

Fingolfin took the towel and nodded. "He does not miss much," he remarked, holding fast to the topic of the ring.

"No I do not. Her ring is quite remarkable." Fëanor noted as he approached his brothers.

"Were you the craftsman?" Finarfin asked, looking at his brother curiously. "I would not be surprised that one of your crafts would last these many ages."

"I am flattered," Fëanor spoke, "I, however, am not one for making rings. That talent lies with another. In fact-" He froze mid-sentence and stared out at the sea, eyes wide.

"Finarfin, distract the lady Emma. Fingolfin, now!" Grabbing his brother by the arm, he shoved him out the door, and together the princes raced to the shore.

Zane looked up to see the elves running towards him as he continued to wave his arms. Ducking under the water, he saw Ian with his eyes still closed; swimming back up, he continued to help his brother to the surface.

"Please help me, I can't get Ian up!" he yelled frantically. "He's not breathing."

Fingolfin swam towards the boys and reached to take Ian from Zane when he felt something grab his legs and pull him under the water.

Fëanor tilted his head in confusion as the twins assaulted Fingolfin in what appeared to be a water fight. Looking back, he saw Emma and Finarfin sprinting towards the boys. When they reached them, he noticed Emma was wheezing for breath.

"What's- oh, I am so sorry." she said in between breaths. "They can be so rambunctious sometimes."

Fëanor began laughing. "Do not apologize." Pointing towards the now drenched Fingolfin, he continued, "They are simply behaving as any elfling would."