Daeron and Tinuviel visit their Nako

[[T]he [O]thers]

“You know, Tinúviel,” Daeron muttered as he skirted around a tree, “me going to see Nako is one thing, I’m an adult now. But you? Even Nana will be furious with you.”

Tinúviel grinned childishly and slipped along after her brother. “They’ll get over it,” she replied impishly, her brown eyes sparkling. “They never let me go anywhere, and I want to know why there’s such a secret about Nako. Besides, those people that she stays with, they sound like a lot of fun! I want to meet them too!”

It was a constant source of frustration to both Eärendil and Tinúviel, that they had never met their grandmother, and they had always been jealous of their oldest brother, for his having met her, and for his yearly visits with her.

“Besides,” she added with a frown, “if I waited until I was old enough to go on my own, I really wouldn’t be able to. I’d be stuck in the city, if not the Southland at the very least.”

Most people thought she was lucky. Aetheling, dauphine, future queen. Her father especially was proud of her. She didn’t care for it one way or the other. Yes, she knew it was a responsibility she would most likely have one day, but she hadn’t done anything to deserve it. She had just been born to the right set of parents. Besides that, she was only nine years old: how could one expect such a young child to take something like that so seriously? To tell the truth, she envied her aunt, the one no one would talk to her about except her great-grandmother, the current queen. She had been in the same position as Tinúviel was now in, but she had escaped it. At least, that was how Tinúviel viewed it.

Daeron understood her concern, but it didn’t change anything. “Ada’s going to kill me for this,” he muttered darkly.

“No,” Tinúviel replied immediately, suddenly serious. “Don’t even joke about that. You know he wouldn’t.”

“If looks could kill,” Daeron quipped back, leaving the sentence hanging. “Come on, Tinúviel. You know I’m the failure child. He’s ashamed of me.”

“Then he’ll be ashamed of me, too, after this,” his sister replied stubbornly. “After all, I’m off to see the family’s dark secret, aren’t I?”

“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” Daeron scolded her harshly. “Or about Nako. She’s a good person – better than Ada could ever be,” he added bitterly. He looked down at his little sister tenderly. “I’m glad you’re like Nana, Tinúviel,” he murmured. “And not like Ada.”

“Hey,” Tinúviel protested. “Ada’s wonderful!”

“If you’re on his good side,” Daeron nodded agreeably. “But don’t worry, Tinúviel. Ada will never be ashamed of you. You’re going to be Queen one day, after all.”

“Don’t remind me,” she frowned, sticking her tongue out at him. “I came with you to escape the people who always remind me of that. Besides, if I am Queen someday, it means something will have happened to Ninako. I don’t want to think about that.”

Daeron sighed. He didn’t want to think about that either. But the fact was, Tinúviel had the luck (good or bad was yet to be determined) of being in the position of possible future queen. And with all of the problems the family already had, he didn’t need the people of the country to have any sort of reason not to respect his sister.

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said again, shaking his head sadly.  

[[T]he [O]thers]

By the time they reached Paradise Valley, Daeron was beginning to tire of his sister’s nonstop energy and enthusiasm.

“I still can’t believe there are so many trees!” she continued to exclaim, time and again. “And they’re so big!”

“This is what most of the Four Lands are like,” Daeron replied for the umpteenth time, rolling his eyes at her. “And Ninako says that the Southland used to be like this, until just after the war.”

He paused thoughtfully, then added, “Ada-thêl would remember what it used to be like.”

At the mention of their aunt, Tinúviel grew quiet. She clasped her hands behind her back and walked with her face to the sun, her eyes pensive. She seemed hesitant to ask the question that she seemed desperate to ask, but it was only after several long moments of silence that she murmured, “Do you think she might still be there?”

Daeron didn’t reply. He had no idea. All he had been told was that she was vising Ulrich and Ulani for a while … and that she had returned with their grandmother. And who knew how long she was going to be there? After all, it had been nearly two weeks now since he and Tinúviel had left home, and two weeks was a long time …

As they broke through the tree line, he lifted his eyes and scanned the area, searching for someone – anyone … but there was no one. Not outside anyways …

A butterfly lit on Tinúviel’s shoulder, and she giggled and cupped it in her hands. “So pretty,” she breathed, her brown eyes sparkling excitedly. The butterfly was a gold so rich it nearly glowed, and it seemed completely unafraid of the elfin girl. Rather than attempting to fly away, it opened and closed its wings a few times before crawling up her hand and resting on her knuckles.

Daeron watched it suspiciously as Tinúviel played with it, but he didn’t say anything. He only continued on towards the houses, and a moment later, Tinúviel followed, leaving the butterfly to fly away.

Only five seconds later, the butterfly became a bird that landed on Tinúviel’s shoulder, startling the girl. She looked at it and ran her finger down its back, then glanced at her brother. “Are the animals all this friendly here?” she asked, completely confused. She was used to birds and such not running away from her … but to have them flock to her like this?

Daeron stopped in his tracks and whirled around, his eyes looking pretty much everywhere but at her. “Where’s the butterfly?” he demanded.

Tinúviel blinked. “I don’t know,” she replied, growing even more confused now. “Why? Why is it important? What’s going on with the animals here? Is something wrong?”

Daeron focused his attention on the bird, staring at it intently for several long moments without answering Tinúviel; then a slow grin spread over his face and he reached out for it, taking it from her shoulder and cupping it in his own hands. He put his face down to it so that it was nearly touching.

“Hello, Nako,” he grinned.

Tinúviel stared. “Daeron … what …”

The bird hopped to the ground and suddenly was not a bird, but an elfin woman. Tinúviel gaped at her, eyes wide, seeing bits of herself reflected in her face.

Serenity smiled up at her granddaughter from where she sat on the ground. “Hello, Tinúviel.”