The Sky that Nobody Sees

Lost Moments

"Hold still, Arwen, or I swear I'm getting the scissors."

"You would not!"

"You underestimate the amount of frustration the hair you all shed on a daily basis causes me. Seriously. It's like I'm running a pound and have to sweep up after the dogs every single time you're in here."

Arwen chuckled from where Inladris had her lying on her back in the living room, five kilometers of hair fanned out above her along a dropcloth Inladris kept specifically for the purpose of cutting Arwen's hair. Arwen had texted Inladris after her shower and asked if she still had time to trim the ends for her, and having arranged dinner in the crockpot well beforehand just so she would have the time, Inladris came right down.

"At least you haven't yet bought a 'trio of cats' like you keep threatening," she said with a grin.

"Yeah somehow I doubt Thranduil would tolerate that kind of eccentricity on my part."

"You should get houseplants," Arwen suggested. "They don't shed nearly as much."

Inladris sighed, only halfway up Arwen's hair even after fifteen minutes of resolute combing. "Nah, I'll just leave them in their shop windows for now. I don't need anything else to pick up after, not that you all are that untidy. As far as picking up after oneself goes you actually are fairly self-sufficient."

Arwen lifted a single dark eyebrow. "Which of us is the worst?"

"Oh Elladan, by a stretch."

"Really! I suppose I haven't been in his room recently enough to gauge. I would have assumed Elrohir was the slob."

"I think Elrohir is organized in habit and less so in thought. Whereas Elladan is so organized in thought his remaining energy can't be spent on such menial things as the physical world."

Arwen shook her head and was rewarded by a brisk tug of her hair. "Who's next after that?"

"Well your father's cleaner than a monk, all I really do in his room is dust and change the sheets. Elrohir's not bad, you're not bad.... Legolas is very neat, I am mostly neat."

"Are you saying it's Thranduil? I've seen his office, that can't be true."

Inladris shrugged, scooting sideways, having finished another section of hair. "Maybe he's so exhausted by the end of the day he can't be bothered. Still a stretch between him and Elladan, though." She separated a smooth lock of dark, gently curling hair. "So how's your beau doing?"

Arwen sighed. "Same as she was before. She's a still sweetheart, but probably too sweet."

"Nothing wrong with enjoying yourself while it lasts, unless of course you propose or something."

"Oh no, never that. I'd have to be beyond certain she could handle this life before bringing her anywhere near it."

"People can surprise you," Inladris murmured, trying to sound nonchalant. "I know for a fact your father didn't think I would make it."

Despite Inladris's threat of scissors Arwen contorted to look back at her, and Inladris obligingly untangled her comb so she wouldn't cause further snarls. "Father didn't think you could do it? But you're one of us now, there's no doubting that. People who have seen us together have asked if you're our mother, or Legolas's."

Inladris shrugged, faintly smiling. "I think your father worries more about other people than he lets on. Certainly more than is healthy for him."

Arwen resettled herself, and Inladris smoothed her hair again. "You should get the houseplants, Inladris," she said at last. "I highly doubt Thranduil would disagree when we say it is half your home as well now. Well, one third. You have earned the right."