"Yes, sir?"
Celeborn smiled. His children had grown up fast, much too fast he decided. Reaching up to adjust the cloak on his youngest son's shoulders, he pulled back instead. The last thing Rumil needed was a parent straightening his clothes while the object of his affections looked on. "What time will you be expected on the practice fields?"
"The Captain wishes me there an hour after sunrise," said Rumil. "To work on my shooting. I'm already best of the group with my knives, but I can't seem to hit anything long range unless it stops moving. I'm not a very good archer, it would seem."
"You'll make a good archer, yet," said Celeborn. He had been sketching a tree in the distance, and placed a new sheet on the wooden slab he had been using as a crude table of sorts. "If you have the time, may I?"
"Oh, well, I--" Rumil began to protest, but Nenniach sat down on the step next to Celeborn and smiled up at her young lover. "Well… all right, then," he said. "Where would you like me?"
"Take six paces backwards," instructed Celeborn, sharpening the charcoal he had been using with a small knife that had been beside him on the stair. "One to the left, then, that should do it." Celeborn looked over the top of the blank page before him, squinting a little and biting his tongue. "I think you should be facing me directly, not to the side. Yes, much better." He picked up the coal and began to create the outline, glancing up now and again.
"Where do you want my hands?" asked Rumil.
"Wherever you are comfortable having them," answered Celeborn.
Rumil shifted his arms, grasping his hands behind his back, but it was not very comfortable.
"Don't do that," called out Celeborn. "You look too much like your eldest brother that way." Rumil let his arms drop to his sides, and Celeborn frowned.
"Too much like Oro?"
"Much too much like Orophin," nodded Celeborn, brushing something from the cream colored paper. "Try something else."
Rumil thought for a moment, then placed his hand over his heart in a gesture of reverence used to salute officers and royalty. "No, that's lame," he scolded himself, but Celeborn held up an arm.
"Leave it there a moment." Celeborn turned his head to address Nenniach. "What do you think?"
"Me?" Nenniach asked, slightly startled. She was still not sure just how to behave around the Lord and Lady of the Golden Woods, only just recently having found them to be the parents of her beloved Rumil. "I think… I think he looks fine."
"Rumil!" called out Celeborn. "Relax!" He looked back at Nenniach, who said nothing, for her blush spoke for her. Celeborn set to working on his drawing once more.
"Should I maybe get rid of my bow?" questioned Rumil after a few minutes of watching his father frown, hunched over his drawing.
"No, ion-nin, it is fine where it is."
"Maybe I should just, hold it instead perhaps?"
"I don't care what you do as long as you don't move," replied Celeborn. Rumil pressed his lips together and remained silent until Celeborn drew back a bit, smiled, and made a few more scribbles on the sheet. "Rumil, write your name on this for me, your penmanship is much better than mine."
Rumil hurried over and looked at the drawing, a smile spreading across his face. "Ada! You draw very well!"
Celeborn snorted slightly and handed the charcoal to his son. "You didn't think you got that from your mother, did you?"
Grinning now, Rumil carefully printed his name on the top of the sheet. "I have to say, this is one handsome elf you've drawn," he said rather smugly. Rumil held up the picture to show to the elleth on the stair. "Fairly close likeness, I think."
"I will agree with you on that," said Celeborn, saving Nenniach from having to respond. "Now, you had better be off, I only hope I have not kept you overlong from making it to the fields on time."
Rumil looked to the horizon, startled to see the sun. "I will see you this evening for supper, sir, please let mother know." Celeborn nodded, and Rumil gave a bow to Nenniach. "My lady," he said lovingly, and then turned and jogged toward the fields.
Celeborn blew across the page to remove any bits of dust and held the paper out to Nenniach.
"My lord?"
"For you," he said simply. "To have when you want to see him when he is not here, to have when you want to see him when you are not here - though I suspect one day, either you shall join us in Lothlorien, or he shall come to you in Rivendell. Perhaps one day," he said, gently kissing her brow, "I shall draw your portrait, and I can give it to my son when I welcome a daughter into my family."
"My lord..." Nenniach was at a loss, and looked to the drawing again.
"This is beautiful. And your words… thank you." Nenniach felt a tear slip from her eye, but it was caught on Celeborn's fingertip.
"We don't want the drawing to smudge, my dear," he chuckled, brushing his thumb against her cheek to collect another stray drop. "There is a tree, four to the left, tell them I have sent you to have this framed. They will have it ready by noon for you if they are not busy with other things."
Nenniach nodded as she stood, still in awe of the gift. "My lord, I cannot thank you enough for this."
"Did you notice, before he went off, the smile on his face?" Nenniach nodded, and Celeborn said, "That is all the thanks I need."