This story is kind of a sequel to my other fic 'Different', but you don't have to read it to understand this story. The idea just popped into my head and wouldn't let me in peace until it was written, so here's the result! And by the way, I know that Settiai has written a story with exactly the same idea, although hers is a bit different. I assure you that I didn't copy it; we just happened to have the same idea at the same point of time.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they all belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. No money is made with this.

Rating: PG

Genre: General/Drama

Hope you like it! Well, anyway, read the story and don't forget to leave me a review!!

"What are you doing?" Elrohir asked, frowning at his brother as he rummaged through the various cupboards in their home.

"Looking," came the muffled reply.

"I can see that you're looking, but what for?"

Elladan didn't reply, just opened another drawer and peered inside. Obviously he didn't find what he was looking for, because he closed it again with a frustrated sigh and continued his rather mysterious task.

Elrohir's frown increased at the antics of his older twin. "Elladan!" He crossed his arms, waiting for a response, a look of impatience on his face. Surprised, his brother looked up, for he was usually the impatient one and not Elrohir.

"I want to cut my hair." He informed the other elfling in a serious voice and turned back to the next cupboard, searching for an item that could help him with his difficult task.

Elrohir's mouth fell open, and he unconsciously touched his own, shoulder-length hair. "You want to...why??" The idea was shocking for the younger twin, and yet it had an appealing touch.

"Because I want to look different from you!"

This response seemed to be even more shocking for the young elf, and his lip quivered slightly. Elladan didn't want to look like him? Maybe he didn't want to be his twin anymore...maybe he didn't like him anymore...Elrohir bit his lower lip. They had always looked the same, as long as he could remember, and there had often been times when they had used their similar looks to play pranks on people. Elrohir had always loved those little games....and now, seemingly out of the blue, Elladan wanted to change?

"Don't you like me anymore?" he asked in a tiny voice.

Baffled by this (to his eyes) illogical statement, Elladan turned around and saw his younger twin looking at him with a very lost expression on his face. The young elfling looked as if he would start crying any second.

"No, that's not it!" Elladan quickly said, a wave of guilt washing over him for causing his brother distress. "It's not because I don't like you, I simply want to be my own person, you understand?"

"No." Elrohir's eyes were wide as he stared at his brother.

Elladan sighed. "Well, because we look the same, people often think that we have the same personalities. But that's not true, you know that as well as I do! So I want to make a change, and I decided to cut my hair. Besides, if I cut my hair, I don't have to wash and braid it all the time!" Eagerness shone in his eyes - the oldest son of Elrond had never understood the importance of washing his hair.

Elrohir's eyes widened in understanding. "But what will Ada and Amme say about this? They won't like it when you cut your hair without asking first."

His brother frowned. To be quite honest, he hadn't thought about his parents yet. They probably wouldn't allow him to cut his hair; no elf at Rivendell had short hair like a human, and they liked it that way. "But when I cut it before I ask, they can't do anything to prevent it," Elladan pointed out. "I just need something to cut with."

"Well, there is Glorfindel's sword...." Elrohir suggested, paling a little. They both know that they didn't have the permission to touch any weapons, because they could hurt themselves. However, they wouldn't really be playing with it...and if they were careful, nobody would notice, right?

Elladan's face lit up. "That's right! He probably left it in his room! Come on!" The elfling quickly dashed out of the room, followed by a rather reluctant Elrohir.

"You know that we aren't allowed to touch it!" the younger twin whispered fearfully.

"Nobody will know!" Elladan reassured and ran through the corridors towards the room of the elven warrior. "Besides, he himself suggestedit, so he won't be angry."

Elrohir gaped at his brother. "Glorfindel suggestedit? Really?" Somehow he doubted that the tall, blonde elf would say something like that to his brother.

"Well...he didn't suggest cutting my hair, but he told me that I could try to make us look different, and I came up with the idea of cutting my hair! I like the idea!"

His younger twin groaned a bit, recognizing the enthusiastic tone in the voice of the elfling. That meant that Elladan wouldn't stop what he was doing, no matter what happened. Silently Elrohir wondered why his brother was so distressed about the fact that they looked alike. He himself had never considered it as a liability - well, he was used to constantly having someone around that looked like his mirror image. And he had always known that there were differences between them. Large differences.

The two had now reached Glorfindel's room and were carefully opening the door. Elladan peered inside, noticing with satisfaction that the room was empty. "We can go in!" he whispered and stepped through the door, letting Elrohir in and then closing it again.

They both respectfully glanced around and tiptoed through the room. Elladan immediately went to the cupboard, the door of which was slightly ajar. He beamed as he opened it and glanced at the big sword standing inside. "Elrohir, look!" he pointed excitedly at the large sword, which was nearly as big as he himself.

"You want to cut your hair with that thing?" Elrohir didn't share his excitement, and looked rather critically at the weapon. "I bet you can't even lift it!"

"Then I will take one of the knives." Elladan was not one to abandon a task quickly, and so he pulled out a large battle knife which was nearly as long as his arm, but still a lot smaller than the sword. "This is perfect!" He took it with both hands and started to leave the room.

"Wait," his brother hissed, "What if somebody sees you with this?"

Elladan just shrugged and put the knife under his shirt, hiding it effectively from view, although it looked a bit awkward. Elrohir just rolled his eyes at his brother's stubbornness and followed once again as they went back to their room. Yet the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of this haircut. Elladan certainly would look funny, and having short hair did have many good points....for example in summer. Then it wouldn't take so long for it to dry after a swim in the pond.

When they finally reached their room, Elladan sat down on a chair and pulled out the knife. For a moment he stared at it, wondering how he should start his task. The young elf tried to cut a few strands of his hair with it and nearly cut off the point of his ear because he couldn't see what he was doing.

"It won't work," he grumbled in frustration and glared at the knife, which lay innocently in his small hands. Then a new idea popped up into his head.

"Elrohir...." he turned towards his brother, offering his best smile. "Do you think you could cut it?"

The younger twin, however, crossed his arms. "No way! We'll just get into trouble because of it, and I don't want to live through another set of extra homework just because you had to do something stupid!"

Elladan pouted. "Well, then I will cut it myself, but then it will be totally your fault if I cut off my ears because I can't see where the knife is!!" And once again he raised the knife, intending to cut his hair.

Elrohir's winced as he imagined his brother cutting off his ears and let out a defeated sigh. "Okay, I'll do it. But don't complain if it looks bad!"

"I won't!" his brother grinned and handed him the knife. "Just get started!"

Half an hour later, many strands of dark brown hair decorated the ground under Elladan's chair. Elrohir, blossoming in his role as hair-stylist, stuck out his tongue while trying to cut of the last strands of his brother's hair. Elladan's hair was now very short, merely a few centimeters long, and sticking out wildly in all directions. The younger twin was surprised at how different his brother looked.

Elladan started to become impatient and shifted around on his chair. He wanted to look in the mirror, wanted to know what he looked like now that his head was free from the weight of all that hair.

"Keep still, Elladan, or I will hurt you!" Elrohir advised somewhat angrily.

"Aren't you finished yet?" his brother complained, still fidgeting. He turned his head, shifting uncomfortably on his seat. Patience had never been a virtue oft he young elf.

Later neither of the two knew how it had happened. If it was Elladan's fault, startling his brother with his restless movements, or if Elrohir was simply unfocused, they would never know. Fact was, that from one moment to the next, the knife didn't cut through hair, but into Elrohir's arm, imbedding itself in the skin. Elrohir just stared at it in horror, his brain only slowly comprehending what had happened.

The knife had cut a few centimeters into his skin, blood pooling around the cut and already dripping down onto the ground. For a mere moment, neither of them moved; and then the pain came.

Elrohir cried out and clutched his arm, tears stinging his eyes. His twin turned around with a shocked expression on his face, an expression which quickly developed into horror when he saw his brother bleeding. "Elrohir!"

"Elladan, the knife is in my arm!" the younger elf whimpered, unable to tear his gaze away from the frightful scene. He didn't dare to touch the knife, though it hurt immensely, and he didn't even want to think of the consequences of this one. What would Ada say...?

"Wait...I...I....I will fetch Ada!" Elladan said in a panicked voice. He paled immediately when he thought of the things his father would say when he realized that they had stolen a knife out of Glorfindel's room, had cut his hair and Elrohir had managed to injure himself. Elrond had always warned them to stay away from sharp objects, and now they had done it...

"No!" Elrohir protested, his eyes wide and his face distorted in pain. His tiny fingers were curling around is arm, around the place where the knife was sticking out. "Ada can't know! We stole this knife, he will be angry!" Tears were rolling down his face, whether of pain or fear, neither could say.

"But you are hurt!" his twin simply stared at the bloodstained arm, worry and horror creeping onto his usually so cheerful features. "Ada must heal you!"

Elrohir shook his head vigorously, stepping back. His face was even paler than usual, and the blood had already formed a small puddle on the floor. "It'll probably go away," he offered half-heartedly, although the burning pain told him otherwise. The only thing he wanted to do was to cry and to hug his mother, but he couldn't tell them what had happened...they would be angry, and the elf didn't like it when his parents got angry. Elrohir sniffed and tried rather unsuccessfully to wipe the tears away.

"Don't be silly," his brother stared at him, "They will notice the blood and they will be even angrier because you've lied to them." Elladan was really worried now, and felt guilty, because this whole thing had been his idea. Sure, he had short hair now, but he had never meant to hurt his brother, and seeing Elrohir in pain was rather distressing.

"I..." Elrohir opened his mouth and closed it again, not knowing what to say. Unconsciously his fingers pulled tighter around his arm, coming near to the part where the knife was still sticking out of the skin. He howled in pain and jerked his hand away, tumbling backwards. Elladan tried to catch him, but it was already too late; Elrohir stumbled over a chair and fell on the floor.

Normally, the fall wouldn't have disturbed him the slightest bit, but this time was different. A hot pain shot through his arm, making it even worse than before, and he started crying loudly. "It hurts, make it stop, it hurts!" The elfling closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to see the ugly sight of the bloodstained knife.

Horror was now sweeping over Elladan and the older twin quickly jumped up, running towards the door, forgetting everything around him. "Ada!" he yelled, while racing through the corridors towards his father's study. "ADA!"

Elrond looked up from the book he was reading, worry crossing his face as he heard the fear in his son's voice. "Elladan, what is wro...." He couldn't complete his sentence, for he was far too surprised by the appearance of his oldest who had just entered the room.

Elladan was really a sight to behold. His hair, cut with a knife, was more than messy, the short strands standing in all directions. A few strands were longer than others, hanging into his face. The neat and tidily combed hair, which had always been Celebrian's pride and joy, had merged into a tangled mess. Elladan more resembled a human than an elf child.

"Elladan!" Elrond gaped in horror. How had his son managed to cut his hair?

"Ada, Elrohir is hurt!" The twin said instead, tears shining in his gray eyes. The Lord of Imladris saw the honest look of fear in the elfling's eyes and immediately stood up, forgetting about his son's appearance. Worry crept over him, partnered with fear. What had his youngest managed to do? Usually it was Elladan who hurt himself on all occasions, for Elrohir was the more responsible of the twins.

"What happened?" he inquired as he followed his son swiftly through the corridors.

"He cut my hair!" Elladan sniffed, the tears now flowing freely.

Another wave of fear washed over Elrond, and he quickened his pace. Cutting hair was only possible with sharp objects, and if Elrohir had been handed one of those...He reached the twin's room and found his youngest curled up on the floor, sobbing quietly.

"Elrohir?" he asked and kneeled down in front of the elfling. He noticed the blood on the carpet and the way his son was clutching his arm.

"Elladan?" Elrond turned to the other twin, who was peering through the door with a worried and guilty look on his face. "Go and fetch your mother, please."

"Yes, Ada," he whispered and dashed away, but not before sending one last glance at the huddled form of his twin.

"Come on, let me see your arm," Elrond gently prodded. "I can't help you if you don't show it to me."

Elrohir whimpered and stretched out his arm, eyes tightly shut. Elrond took in a deep breath as he saw the knife sticking out of the white skin. Luckily nothing serious was injured and the cut wasn't that deep, but still, the idea alone of a knife sticking out of his arm must have frightened the child greatly.

"It will be okay," he soothed the crying child, "I know that it hurts, but it will pass. I have to take out the knife first, then I can give you something for the pain, alright?"

It didn't seem alright, for the twin forcefully shook his head. Just the idea of touching the knife made him wince in pain, and his father wanted to take it out?? No, never! He scrambled backwards and continued to shake his head.

Elrond sighed. "Elrohir, I can understand what you are feeling, but this knife can't stay in your arm forever. We have to take it out sometime, and we'd better do it now rather than later when the wound is infected. Believe me, that would hurt far more worse than if we did it now. I know that you are a strong elf, you can handle this. And afterwards, I will make you some tea to ease the pain."

Gnawing on his lower lip, the elfling stared with wide, tear-filled eyes at his father. Then he stretched out his arm, closing them once again.

Elrond gently wrapped his slim fingers around the knife, feeling sick at the thought of causing his own child pain, but knowing as the experienced healer he was that there was no other choice. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath...and ripped out the knife.

Elrohir's scream tore at his heart, and quickly gathered the elfling in his arms, whispering soothing words into the child's ears. Elrohir buried his face in his father's tunic, sobbing quietly.

Slowly Elrond stood up, lifting the child in his arms. As he started to leave the room, he met his wife, who had followed Elladan with a look of fear on her face which matched his own. She slowly stroked her son's head.

"It's not that bad, just a minor flesh wound," Elrond calmed her down, although his own heart was still beating too quickly. Celebrian followed him through the corridors as he carried the crying child into the healing rooms, not quite satisfied with this answer. At first she had been shocked as a seemingly strange child burst into her room, only to find out that it was *her* son who had done something horrible to his hair. Then she had been shocked at the tearstained face of her oldest, telling her a confusing story of which Celebrian could only understand the words 'Haircut', 'knife' and 'bleeding'. Immediately alarmed, for that could mean nothing good, the Lady of Imladris had followed her son, only to see her husband carrying a crying Elrohir out of the twins' room.

"What has happened?" she inquired.

"Obviously Elrohir tried to give his brother a new haircut - with one of Glorfindel's knives." Elrond sent a pointed look at Elladan. "We will have to talk about this later, young elf!"

Elladan looked at the ground, flinching under the stern look. Elrond set Elrohir on a chair and took the herbs Celebrian was handing him. With the swift movements of a trained healer, he cleaned the cut and wrapped a bandage around it. "There," he said and patted his son's arm, "It's not that bad. You shouldn't use your arm for a few days, but it will heal quickly."

He went away to brew some tea for the twin, while Celebrian sat down, staring at her sons. Elrohir was still sniffling, his face pale, but all in all he looked a lot calmer than just moments before. Elladan, however, seemed to be a mess. Not only did his hair look absolutely ridiculous, there was also the guilt etched on his face and his lower lip which quivered slightly, indicating that he was close to bursting into tears.

"Now would you please tell me how that happened?" Celebrian asked sternly.

Elladan looked at his feet. "I...I....wanted to have short hair." he mumbled softly.

"And why, my son, did you feel the sudden need for a haircut?"

"Because we look the same!" the elfling said more forcefully. "I don't want to look like anybody else, I want to be my own person! That's why I asked Elrohir to help me...and we didn't know how to cut the hair, so we took Glorfindel's knife. But I didn't mean to hurt him, I swear!" The tears were running down his cheeks now as he quietly started sobbing.

Angry and concerned as she was, when she saw the look on her son's face, Celebrian's heart melted. "Come," she simply said and took him in her arm, the other arm draped around Elrohir. Both elflings cuddled against their mother, seeking the warmth and the comfort. Celebrian mumbled soothing words, slowly calming them down and dissolving their fright.

"Does it hurt, 'Ro?" Elladan whispered to his brother.

"It stings a little," his twin confessed, "But it isn't as bad as it was before."

"I'm sorry...It was my fault," the tears threatened to fall again. Celebrian quickly wiped them away and placed a kiss on both her son's heads. "Shush," she whispered, "You can talk about this another time. It's better that you sleep now."

Right on cue Elrond entered, a steaming mug in his hands. He gently forced Elrohir to drink the tea, and then took the elfling out of his wife's arm. It didn't take long until Elrohir's eyes started to droop and he fell asleep, head leaning against his father's chest.

Elladan was curled up against his mother, sleeping soundly as well, and carefully the two parents scooped their children up and carried them into their room, laying them down on the beds.

"He cut his hair," Elrond shook his head, massaging his temples. "By the Valar, I wonder where they get these ideas!"

"He wanted to look different," Celebrian explained, as they walked back to the Great Hall. "I think he's having some problems with being a twin."

Elrond frowned at this, not having overheard the previous conversation. "I always believed that they liked it; after all, they never quarrel that much and stick together most of the time." the dark-haired elf let out a deep sigh. "I guess I have to talk with them about this. But honestly, where did he get the idea of cutting his hair?"

"And far more important, how could they be so foolish as to steal a knife out of Glorfindel's trunk?" Celebrian shook hear head, paling at the idea of what could have happened.

"Elrohir nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw him crying, with the knife sticking out of his arm," Elrond muttered darkly. "One day they both will frighten me to death, really. Why do they always have to do dangerous things? I thought they had learned their lesson after what happened last time, but obviously I was wrong."

Celebrian chuckled softly at this. "After all, they are your sons," she said somewhat amused, "They want to try out new things, thirsting for knowledge, and they are more courageous than any other elflings in Imladris."

Elrond just raised an eyebrow at this. "I can't remember doing things like they do; I didn't fall into the pond and nearly drown, neither did I try to cut my brother's hair and cut myself instead, or I didn't try to climb the roof and fell down on my innocent father who was walking through the gardens with his wife, enjoying a peaceful moment." He rolled his eyes at the memory. "Elladan nearly gave me a heart attack when he fell right on me!"

Celebrian smiled smugly. "But I *do* remember a certain elf who tried to climb up to my room and slipped on the wall, falling to the ground and breaking his leg."

Her husband reddened at this, not liking this particular memory. Glorfindel hadn't stopped laughing for the after that incident. "That was...different!" he coughed.

"Am I interrupting?" came the amused voice of the aforementioned fair-haired elf. Glorfindel had stepped, unnoticed by the pair, nearer and was positively smiling at them. "I thought I heard some screaming and went over to investigate, but I was held up. Did something happen?"

"It depends," Elrond sighed. "Another escapade of the twins."

"Oh. What did they do this time?"

"Elladan had the idea of cutting his hear, and convinced his brother to help him." Glorfindel's smile slowly disappeared when he heard this, remembering the conversation he and Elladan had shared the previous day. He gulped. The elfling hadn't really...had he?

"And...did he manage it?" The blonde elf asked anxiously.

Elrond just looked at him, a look of amusement and mock despair on his face. "Unfortunately, yes. He resembles a wandering bush now, with his hair sticking out all over the place. They didn't find anything fitting to cut the hair with, so they went to your room and stole one of your hunting knifes!"

Glorfindel's eyes grew wider. "They didn't, did they?" But the look on Elrond's face told him enough and he groaned. "Dear Elbereth, what were they thinking?"

"Obviously they weren't," Celebrian added, "For Elrohir managed to cut himself rather nastily with the aforementioned knife and had a full scale panic attack, seeing the blood on his arm. Elladan panicked as well, and they both screamed in terror. I don't believe I've ever run that fast before!"

"But he's okay now?" Glorfindel wanted to know.

"They are both sleeping in their room. And I guess I will have to talk with them both tomorrow; it seems as if Elladan did this because he didn't want to be a twin and look like his brother. He could have come to me and talked about this, but no, he's so hotheaded!"

"Uhm...yes," the fair-haired elf said, remembering the conversation with Elladan which had been about this exact topic. He figured that he probably should not mention the fact that it had been him who had put the child on this idea, although accidentally. "I would like to see him...do you think I can?" He sent a questioning glance to his old friend, who simply nodded.

"Just be silent and don't wake them; they've had enough surprises for today, they don't need another one." Elrond said, taking his wife's hand. "And by the way, your knife is in my study if you need it again." And the pair strode off, back to the Great Hall.

Glorfindel muttered something inaudible and peered through the twin's door. The two children were sleeping soundly, cuddled together in one bed. The twins usually would only share one bed when they were frightened or when one of them was hurt, claiming that they were too old for that on normal occasions.

"Ai Elbereth," the fair haired elf muttered, as he saw what Elladan had done with his hair. The usually neat and combed shoulder length dark hair was now shortened by several inches, sticking out wildly, while the elfling was sleeping soundly. It was strange how a new haircut could change a person, and Elladan really didn't look like his twin anymore.

He shook his head and closed the door again. Glorfindel just hoped that both Elrond and Celebrian would never know who had planted this stupid idea in their son's head, for he didn't want to face their wrath. They could be quite...extreme when it came to their children.

Nevertheless he smiled slightly as he wandered along the corridors. At least it would never, ever be boring at Imladris with the twins around.

End.