Epilogue – Children

Many, many years later . . .

"When did you say they are supposed to be here?" Haldir asked.

He glanced up from the book he was attempting to read over the shrieks and shouts of his children, three of whom were clambering among the tree branches high above him. Their antics resulted in frequent showers of leaves and twigs raining down upon his head and book. He sighed, but did not move his chair. He was quite comfortable.

"Any moment now," Amarië answered. "Rúmil and Brianna are bringing wine and poetry. Orophin and Cicely are bringing two berry pies, your favorite kind. I believe Ennis and Lornarië are bringing biscuits and fresh bread. Ferodir and—"

"Ada!" screeched Rolanth, their youngest son, from high above.

With lightning reflexes, Haldir dropped his book and leaped to his feet just in time to catch the child. "That is the third time today you have fallen!" he said in exasperation. "Are you so anxious to return to Mandos?"

Rolanth only giggled. None of the children retained any memories from their former lives; that would not come to them until they were older and their experience and knowledge had grown. Then they would be enriched by memories from both their lives. Rolanth, they had been told, had been slain in the battle of Nirnaeth Arnoediad during the first age, one of the earliest battles where the elves had fought against Morgoth. Another of their sons, Gilrion, had also died in that battle.

Amarië concealed a grin as she leaned over to pull a few weeds from her garden. Their six warriors from the past were certainly a handful. She glanced over at her husband. "Well, I suggested that he should stay on the ground, but you said he was fine."

"Perhaps you were right, meleth. I came to Valinor for peace and quiet, and have gotten precious little of it so far! Rolanth, you may not climb the tree again today. Your cousins will be here soon. You will sit on that chair until they arrive."

"Torin pushed me!" Rolanth whined. "It is not fair!"

Wearing a harassed expression, Haldir turned to Amarië. "If he moves from that chair, he will have no pie. That is my command. I am going for a walk."

"Yes, milord." Amarië's voice held a gentle note of teasing. "I think you are perhaps regretting our decision?"

Haldir came over and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek. "Which decision is that? To invite our brothers and their wives to our celebration? Or to include Ferodir and his litter of offspring?"

"No, our decision to have another child so soon."

He slipped an arm around her waist and nuzzled his mouth beneath her ear in just the way that made her shiver. "We have little choice in that. We have our duty to fulfill." He placed a hand upon her slightly rounded belly. "And it is far too late for second thoughts. The seventh already grows."

"Yes," she agreed, turning her head to kiss his lips. Simply to coax him into a better mood, she used the connection between them to send him a sweet sensation, a gentle, teasing stroke to put a smile on his face.

"Amarië," he growled into her ear. "I will have none of that right now. You will have to do much better than that to make me—ah, now that is much better, my fair temptress. How very nice. No, do not stop."

"We will do no more right now," she admonished. "That was only to cheer you up. Perhaps if you are good, we will do more later."

"If I am good," he repeated in astonishment. "Amarië, I think you are a little too used to talking to children! You forget who is the master here!"

"Nay, I do not," she shot back, grinning mischievously. "Now do not scowl. Look, they are here. You do not want me to do that to you in front of them. Look, Ferodir has brought all his daughters. I thought one of them had other plans."

"Trust Ferodir to have four daughters," Haldir muttered. "I have never seen that elf when he was not surrounded by females."

Indeed, Rúmil and Orophin and Ferodir had arrived, accompanied by their wives and multitudes of children. Haldir sometimes pretended he did not know which child belonged to which set of parents; this was his revenge for all their jokes about the number of his own offspring, not to mention the number of wagers made (unbeknownst to the wives) on various aspects of Haldir's personal habits. As much as he loved his brothers, he was very tired of their teasing.

Here in Valinor, none of them had chosen to live in the trees as they had done in Lórien. Haldir and Amarië had a snug, two-storied house near a pretty brook with gardens all around. They grew flowers and vegetables and children, not necessarily in that order. They seldom bickered and never argued, for the love between them had only grown, and their passion for each other still flared as hot as the day they had bound themselves together as husband and wife. Haldir sometimes remarked that he had more children than flowers in his garden, but in his heart he loved each of his sons and had time and again proven himself to be a fair and just father.

Ennis arrived last, with Lornarië and their twin sons. Both of their children were reborn warriors from the Battle of Dagor Bragollach back in the first age, and both were quiet and well-mannered and obedient. Haldir could only shake his head and sigh.

Ennis came directly over to Amarië and kissed her cheek. "You are looking well," he said calmly, then turned to greet Haldir, who had become his closest friend.

By now, Ennis seemed more elf than human. He spoke fluent Elvish, was familiar with all elven customs and manners, and dressed in the elvish style. He wore his black hair long with elvish braids expertly woven by Lornarië.

Haldir and Ennis spoke for a moment, while the children raced around, the ladies chatted, and Ferodir and Haldir's brothers proceeded to open the large flask of wine that Rúmil had brought.

Amid the commotion, Ennis glanced over at Amarië. "Do you realize she carries twins?"

Haldir's eyes widened. "Twins? Are you sure?"

Of course Ennis was sure. He always knew these things. It was he who had supplied them with knowledge about their reborn children, even to the point of giving them the name the child would wish to bear. Ennis's powers had grown, slightly to Amarië's envy, Haldir knew. Amarië could heat water with a spell, and heal her children's scratches and bruises, but it was Ennis whose magic ran strong and deep.

"You will have a male and a female," he told Haldir. Haldir watched in amazement as Ennis closed his eyes and proceeded to give him information that Haldir had no doubt would eventually prove true. He had seen it too many times to doubt.

"The male," Ennis continued, "is my father, Celebrenin. The female is . . . a Lórien maiden that Celebrenin knew in his youth. She died young. Killed by Orcs. Her name . . . Elandia. He loved her and she died. That is why he grew so wild." Ennis reopened his eyes and smiled. "You are going to have your hands full, Haldir. Twins are a great deal of work."

Haldir managed a feeble smile. If Ennis considered his own twins work, Haldir could only imagine what his and Amarië's would be like. "How wonderful," he replied, his mind whirling with the idea that his future son and daughter were likely to become romantically involved. Of course they would not truly be brother and sister; all reborn elves took back their original bodies. Still, he did not look forward to it. The Valar certainly had a mischievous sense of humor!

The afternoon's celebration marked the anniversary of their arrival in Valinor. All invited partook heartily of the food and drink; the children ran around and made noise and drove Haldir so insane that he decided to call in some favors he was owed. For once, he was successful; through a combination of favors, negotiations, threats, and in Ferodir's case, a blatant bribe, Haldir was able to foist all six of his children onto his guests.

Three hours later, when they all departed, Rúmil and Brianna took Rolanth along with them, and Orophin and Cicely took Torin and Gilrion. Ferodir and his wife agreed to take Mendelion, who was very popular with all Ferodir's daughters, while Ennis and Lornarië good-naturedly took Inglorian and Aridor. The children would be gone until the afternoon of the following day.

As far as Haldir was concerned, silence reigned for the first time in millennia.

Amarië laughed. "How did you manage it? All our little warriors gone at the same time! It is unbelievable!"

"You forget that the former March Warden of Lothlórien has diplomatic skills beyond those of a normal elf," he said smugly.

She smothered a giggle as he stalked toward her. "Diplomatic skills? Is that what you call it? They sounded like threats to me."

"Mock me not," he warned. "I intend to make good use of this time."

"And what would you consider good use?" she inquired, just as he scooped her into his arms and headed into the house.

"Hot sex," he said succinctly. "You and me. As many times as I can physically manage it. In every possible location in our home."

"Good gracious, don't you think that's a little ambitious?"

"Not really. Did you know you are carrying twins? I think we'll start in the bedroom. It may not be adventurous, but it is the most comfortable."

"Twins!" she squeaked as he dropped her down on the bed. "Ennis told you it would be twins?"

"Yes. Now you know the reason for all this pent-up tension inside of me." He was undressing as he talked, peeling off his tunic and leggings with a deftness that told her how eager he was. Now he was undressing her, slipping off her shoes and shoving up her gown. His hands slide up her thighs and over her hips, caressing her belly, up her ribcage, to settle on her breasts.

"Someday it will not be like this," she reminded him breathlessly, "with them so young and sweet and innocent. They will be grown and mature."

"And presenting us with noisy and boisterous grandchildren,' he added. He sat back and gave her smoldering look. "Help me, Amarië. I do not wish to rip your gown."

"So polite," she murmured seductively. And sent him a sizzling message along their connection as she sat up and pulled her gown off over her head.

"That does it," he said. He tossed her gown aside and grabbed hold of her wrists, pinning her down with his body. "Consider yourself under my authority," he murmured arrogantly.

"Oh, is that what you're calling it now? Well, your authority seems to be growing."

His answer was a low growl. His mouth fastened hungrily on hers, his warm tongue tangling with her tongue as he settled himself against her. He kissed her throat, tasting and licking her, moving his mouth downward to her breasts with their rosy-tipped nipples that he loved so much. She was softness personified, her skin like the petals of a flower, and so sweet he nearly died whenever he had her like this.

Each time they made love it was like the coming of spring—familiar, yet fresh and new and wonderful. For the rest of the day they enjoyed each other, spending time in between the lovemaking to talk and to laugh before starting all over again. Finally, well into the evening, they snuggled together on a divan in their parlor.

"Haldir," she said tenderly, "I love you more than you can imagine."

"I love you too, Amarië. You are beautiful in all ways. I thank the Valar each day for you."

"And I for you."

For a little while it was quiet. Then Haldir spoke again. "Twins, Amarië. Your father and the love of his youth, who died young. Celebrenin and Elandia. Do you know what this means?"

"That she will need sisters?" Amarië suggested hopefully.

Haldir buried his face in her hair. "I am going to scream."

"Do not scream, meleth. Nothing needs to be decided now. We will know when the time comes if it is right."

"The best thing about having children," he remarked, "is watching your belly grow. I find it extremely erotic."

"I enjoy watching your parts grow too. I find that extremely erotic."

Delighted, he laughed softly. "Galadhrim arrows are still the best."

"Indeed," Amarië answered with a small smile. "I can vouch for that."

THE END
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