She, sorry they, will be back

Eleanor's POV

In the year after Miriel's sons reached their majorities, the most peculiar thing happened.

Our cats, which Manwë had informed us had life-spans tied to our own (that is they died when we did), got pregnant.

I have no idea how as they were all female and there were no male giant cats hanging round Valinor.

All our cats had four kittens, both mine and Ginny's litters had two females.

All three litters are a mixture of white, silver tabby, and black cats.

Manwë informs us that the kittens are for specific people.

Legolas gets my silver tabby; the other male kitten is black and goes to my son, so my daughter gets the white one. I think they are all happy and, to my amusement, Legolas calls his cat Merlin, after the original silver tabby.

He might not know who Merlin was, but Ginny squeals delightedly when he names the cat that.

Honestly!

Each of Miriel's twins gets a black cat and her spouse and his brother get the other two. The silver tabby goes to Elladan while Elrohir gets a white one to match the one which belongs to his wife.

The kittens from Ginny's litter go to Ada, Gil-galad, Lanthi, and Erestor.

Manwë does not specify why these people get the kittens, but I think there is a reason.

I also notice that I have one left over, I wonder why.

A couple of weeks after the kittens are born, my question is answered when I see Mandos, Manwë, and a vaguely familiar blonde elleth riding down my garden path.

Legolas is out visiting someone or other; I have to admit I didn't listen very much as I wanted to stay home and rest.

As the trio get closer to me I notice that the elleth bares a startling resemblance to Miriel.

When they see me, they ride over and dismount from the horses they are riding.

"Is Legolas around?" Manwë asks.

"No, he is out visiting someone, I wanted to stay home." He nods before pushing the suddenly shy elleth forward.

"This is Myrwen, Legolas' mother." I stare. She is my mother in-law!

Blimey, that was not expected.

She greets me quietly, and she looks so nervous that I hug her.

She is nervous about meeting me? I thought it was meant to be the other way round!

As we are beginning to get over the awkwardness, Nyx comes padding over to us with the final kitten in her mouth.

By this point we have all sat down on the grass to talk and my cat drops the fluffy little kitten in her lap.

This one is mostly black but with a white patch over her stomach, and that patch goes up to the bottom of her face.

"Meet Nyx and Claudia." I first rub my own cat then the tiny little kitten. She gives me a look that asks me to explain the names.

"Nyx is the Greek goddess of the night, Greece being a country in the world I grew up in, and when I was little my adoptive family bred cats and one of the kittens looked very much like that one. She was called Claudia as well, so I named that one after her." She nods in comprehension.

Mandos then informs us that Myrwen was who the last kitten was for and I finally get an explanation for the pregnancies without males.

I don't think the biblical scholars would be too happy to know that the Immaculate Conception happened in cats as well.

I also finally get an explanation for how we found the three little dears in that oasis in Harad.

The Valar wanted us to have feline companions which have saved our lives many times over the years so they made three absolutely adorable kittens as they knew we would fall for immediately and put them in the oasis, knowing we would stop there and find them.

Right, there is nothing like doing it the easy way to get what you want I guess.

I had sort of expected a less blatantly magic explanation for it for some reason.

The fact that they simply created our cats implies that their kittens and who those kittens were assigned to was not a coincidence.

I keep getting stinks of something to come, but whenever I try to bring it up with the Valar, I never get anywhere.

They leave in the early afternoon, after stopping for lunch.

Myrwen stays with me though, she moving into our house for the time being at least.

I suddenly get a mischievous idea.

"Myrwen, what do you say to me mind-calling Legolas to get him to invite Miriel and Elrohir, possibly with their twins to dinner?" I ask her.

"That would be nice. I want to actually meet my daughter, not to mention my grandchildren. Eru, that is weird, grandchildren when I have yet to meet my daughter." She then narrows her eyes suspiciously at me, I think she notices the wicked little smile I am wearing, "You are not planning on telling them that I am here, are you?"

"I have an evil sense of humour; it is one of my personality defects."

Myrwen grins at me wickedly – I think I am going to like her somehow.

When I sense my husband getting near, we move into the parlour, not wanting to give the group any warning. I also tell the servants not to tell anyone that she is here.

We soon hear them out in the corridor and we go silent.

In a matter of seconds, the double doors behind the sofa Myrwen is sitting on open and Legolas, Miriel, Elrohir, and both sets of younger twins walk in.

Legolas looks at the lady sitting in front of him, then frowns first at me then her.

With her back to him he cannot see who she is.

With perfect timing she turns round and speaks.

"Ah, Legolas, I was just having the most fascinating conversation with your lovely wife here. You have chosen a fascinating elf to marry you know." Apparently I am not the only one with a warped sense of humour.

Legolas gapes at her and so does Elrohir.

The rest have never met her before of course so they are looking at her in confusion.

Now they are in the same room I can see just how similar Miriel and Myrwen actually look.

"Naneth!" Legolas exclaims and moves round the sofa to fall at her feet and hug her.

As he is doing this, I can see the confused looks change to comprehension. I also see Miriel start to shake.

Considering all the angst and grief she suffered over her mother's death, I think I can at least sort of understand her feelings.

Myrwen can also see her daughter begin to fall apart.

"Miriel, dear, are you not going to greet your mother?" she asks gently.

Miriel moves round the sofa hesitantly and also falls at her mother's feet.

Myrwen then embraces the two gently and they have the most moving reunion. I have to admit I have a lump in my throat throughout, I remember what it was like to be reunited with my elfin parents and I had more warning than they did.

I also never thought myself responsible for my mother's death.

Eventually the three pull apart and introduce Myrwen to her grandchildren, who are all rather floored at the sudden appearance of their grandmother, and Elrohir, who has had just enough time to get over her appearance to get nervous about meeting his new in-law.

Ginny's POV

No one notices time rolling by in Valinor; the only way I can gauge time is by the steady growth of the four children.

They grow up watching their families and me practicing with our weapons on a rather regular basis (weekly at the very least). So naturally all are over the moon when they're given their first (wooden) weapons at (what would be in humans) the grand age of five.

Valya in particular is very enthusiastic – it may have something to do with the fact that she's the only girl amongst the younger elves. There are many arguments on the subject of gender supremacy during which, I'm always an objective observer – honest. I mean, the older elves have known us far too long to be quite so rash with their words.

Vala, Mána, and Aini will eventually learn which gender is better – even if Valya has to beat it into them.

We start off quite small in their training – in fact we don't even train them at first, just let them run around with their wooden weapons.

We've built a large training hall in which all our weapons are displayed. We really have amassed quite a collection now, so much so that I hardly know which weapon to pick.

When they're just shy of becoming teenagers, the children are introduced to proper metal weapons as well as Dwarf-like throwing axes. We had tried introducing them to these earlier, but stopped when Legolas was very nearly beheaded by his own daughter.

I also start teaching them more stuff on the trampoline as well as bungee ballet.

That's one of the great things about living in Valinor – the Valar can get us anything we want. I'd always loved trampolining as a child, but sort of gave up at uni.

I'm actually amazed at how much I can still do, though that might have something to do with elfin grace or whatever.

The years carry on their steady lengthening, until suddenly – shockingly even – Ellie's twins reach their majorities.

I'm really not all that surprised when major birthday celebrations are announced. The elves, even before their majorities, barely celebrate birthdays; that's probably why a majority is probably the only birthday when everyone goes all out on the celebrations – last time in an infinite life-span when they'll get to do so.

For fairly obvious reasons, neither Miriel nor Ellie nor I celebrated our majorities, so we take every opportunity to enjoy this one.

The Valar really do know how to put on a party – like I said, such celebrations don't come round very often, unless of course you count the now annual festivals of Christmas and Valentine's Day – wonder who suggested those...

Anyway, the great day dawns and everyone is suitably excited.

The party is taking place in a large meadow away from everyone's houses – this means camping of course; it also means that everyone is woken up by Valya and Vala's excited shouts when they see what everyone had been doing when they stayed up so late last night.

You would have thought that 50 years of life would have toned down their childishness, but then they do have the overriding influence of people like Manwë practically on their doorstep.

The whole field is decorated in gold – this suddenly makes me think of golden wedding anniversaries from England...

Glittering streamers are hung around the trees, golden balloons (Ellie insisted) tied in great bunches dot the grass, and tiny little creatures that are a kind-of cross between faeries and dragonflies flit through the air.

A great, golden marquee has been erected around an ancient oak tree in the centre of the field – this is where the feast is to be held.

Vala is dressed in formal robes, doublet, and hose – all gold. He suddenly looks very grown up and distinguished; I can foresee a lot of fluttering female hearts in the future; his sister is dressed in a gorgeous gown made of the palest of primrose coloured silk and embroidered in gold. The cowl neck skims the top of her bust, enhancing it wonderfully. Every ellon not related to her suddenly becomes very attentive, whilst all those that are, become strangely protective.

Everyone else is dressed in the formal colours of his or her house; as I'm no longer a member of Ellie's house, Manwë has decreed that I get to choose my own formal colours. Guess what colour I go for.

The party lasts all day and long into the night with almost continual dancing and games throughout. Alcohol flows freely, even with me.

I'm not very happy the next morning when I'm gently shaken awake by Naneth; the sun has barely risen and the early morning mist still hangs over the field. I'm annoyed from the small amount of sleep I got, not the fact that I have a hangover – which I don't. Being elfin means my tolerance of alcohol has sky-rocketed.

Naneth sees my mutinous expression and laughs,

"Someone's not very happy this morning."

"Why are we up so early?" I ask drowsily.

"Because we have to leave before Valaráto and Valyaceulë wake up – it's tradition that once an elf has reached their majority, they are taken somewhere and left to make their own way back home. It's a sign that they're ready for independence."

"And it's meant to be a surprise?" I ask, slightly more alert as I wasn't informed of this. "They're hardly going to sleep through all this activity..." I pause, looking at Naneth, "... I suppose that's where my extra bottle of sleeping draught went last night; I did wonder why I was asked to bring two along, not to mention why Vala and Valya suddenly became so drowsy."

When we left the field, the only sign that the anything had happened the previous day was the single tent that housed the still sleeping twins.

I'm quite amused by Ellie's behaviour when we reach home – she just can't keep still; for all her apparent toughness and no nonsense attitude, Ellie still becomes a quivering jelly whenever her children are away from her for any length of time.

"But they're only 600 months old," she says worriedly when I sigh because she has got up for the umpteenth time to look out the window.

"They're 50," I answer amusedly, "Besides, we've been training them for 40 odd years and they're in Valinor, so I highly doubt they're going to come to any harm."

Even this doesn't reassure Ellie; neither does it reassure two certain, slightly younger siblings who still have their majorities to come.

The children have all grown now, but they're not the only ones.

I must be going blind or something because one day I suddenly notice that Murrlin's looking rather tubby; she's also eat a hell of a lot more than usual.

When I mention this to the others, Ellie and Miriel also comment that the same seems to be happening to their cats.

Strange thing is they all seem to be fat only around their stomachs...

OK... maybe I'm going stupid as well as blind – the giant cat population of Valinor has just increased by twelve.

Murrlin, Falathiel, and Nyx all have four kittens each and apparently, they're destined (yes, destined) for specific people. Murrlin's two boys go to Turgon and Ada; her two girls go to Lanthi and Gil-galad.

I really wanted one of them to go to Naneth, but Manwë insisted that the four mentioned above get the kittens. He doesn't just skirt around the issue when I ask the reasons behind his sudden insistence, he uses the entire wardrobe – this guy's mysteriousness is really beginning to bug me, it's almost as if our whole lives in Valinor are being directed towards something and I'm not really sure if I want to find out what it is...