Elrond strolled into Glorfindel's study, placing some papers down on the desk. He was about to leave when something caught his eye.

Sitting on top of the desk, as it had for many hundreds of years, was a small eagle carved out of a rich warm coloured wood. It had been rather inexpertly carved, but had been sanded down so thoroughly afterwards that it was perfectly smooth, even if some regions of the outstretched wings were rather thinner than others.

The eagle belonged to Glorfindel, as did the memories associated with it. Both were precious to him.

~*~

The hot midday sun was beating down on the dry earth in the clearing. There was barely any shadow left by the tall elf and the little crowd of elflings that were milling around him.

Quickly he counted the nine heads bobbing around dizzyingly quickly. It would not do to lose any of his small charges in the change of activity.

"Stand still boys!" he called at last.

They boys, all aged between nine and twelve and dressed alike in dark green training tunics and shorts, fell into a shuffling line. It was halfway through the training session and they had just finished their speed and agility exercises. The ropes that had been strung between two trees had been coiled away, and the wooden blocks used to mark the running track had been stacked into a corner. Usually the boys enjoyed these activities but today they had been impatient, itching for that session to end and the new one to begin. For today would be their first attempt at archery.

He called them out one by one, selecting a suitable bow based on their height from the box of small training bows he had before him. They would eventually need bows of their own, but for the moment the well used bows found in the training room would prove adequate.

"Elladan"

Eventually his name was called and Elladan skipped forwards happily to receive his bow. They would look after it and use it for training until they were given bows of their own. One of the larger boys had already been boasting about the handsome bow that his father had promised him.

"Thank you, hîr"

Elladan smiled broadly, admiring the bow in his hands. It was made of a light springy wood and came with ten small arrows. He bounced up and down on his toes impatiently as the other boys received their weapons, looking longingly at the targets on the side of the field.

Eventually everyone had their bows and arrows and looked to their instructor for direction.

"Line up in front of the targets in your pairs"

Elladan turned to his previous partner, a boy of some eleven years and smiled. The boy stared through him and turned his back, joining up with another elf. He was still smouldering about being beaten by a younger boy in the informal tournament they had had a few days previously.

Puzzled, Elladan turned to the other boys only to find that they were already all paired up. He flushed slightly and stood before the last target, examining his bow, pretending he didn't care. He had never been left alone without a partner before. That was for people no one liked.

"Ah Elladan, will you be my partner?" the instructor asked gently, not liking the titter of laughter that came from another elf. Elladan nodded, looking at the ground.

After a brief demonstration the young elves took up their weapons and attempted to stand in the correct position.

"No Elladan, like this." Elladan felt his grip on the bow being adjusted as the instructor moved along the line correcting his pupils. Finally when the bows were held to his satisfaction they were instructed to shoot.

Elladan released the arrow, expecting it to fly to the target and land in the centre. After all if Elrohir was good at it then so would he.

The arrow hit the ground some ten metres from the target. Elladan scowled and fitted his next arrow concentrating harder. This one reached the target, and dangled limply from the far edge.

"Spend more time on your aim Elladan," the instructor yelled from the other end of the field, where he was helping a small blond elf fit an arrow to his bow.

Elladan flushed deeply. It was unusual that he would be picked out for individual criticism. However he did as he was asked and the next two arrows managed to hit the edge of the circle.

At the end of the lesson, despite not having to take turns like the others, he was still unable to hit the centre of the target. He had had arrows on the ground, arrows in the trees behind the target, arrows peppering the backing board and a few on the outermost circle. The closest he had got was one arrow in the second outermost circle.

The moment the lesson ended Elladan grabbed his bow and ran as fast as he could across the clearing and up to his secret hiding place inside a hollow old oak tree in the lower gardens.

Gathering up the equipment, the tall elf watched the boy's hasty retreat and sighed. Elladan didn't take losing kindly, and that was something he would have to learn if he was ever to achieve his potential.

~*~

Celebrian sat on a small stool in front of the mirror braiding her hair in preparation for the evening. She had spent her day entertaining the guests and writing a letter to King Thranduil of Mirkwood. On return to her room she had found a large smudge of ink on the end of her nose, and had decided it was time to tidy and dress herself before dinner.

As usual the obstinate curls that framed her face would not be tamed into braids. She picked two small violets from the bouquet on the dressing table and wove them into the curls before she tucked them behind her ears. She stood up and twirled round in front of the mirror, delighted at the result.

A noise behind her prompted a hasty grab for the robe left on the bed. The young messenger elves were far too well mannered to enter whilst she was in her underclothes, instead preferring to cough gently, their eyes fixed to the floors or walls.

"Cel," warm arms slipped around her body, drawing her close to him.

Celebrian turned to her husband, standing on tiptoes to kiss him. Elrond reached up, stroking her silky hair. He still marvelled inwardly that anyone so beautiful would choose to pledge her life to him.

"Ada?" an inquisitive voice called from the corridor.

Elrond groaned, releasing his wife as he turned to the source of the disturbance.

Elrohir skipped in holding his training bow and jumped onto the bed.

"Hello Ammë," Elrohir beamed at the sight of her, "Are you and Ada busy?"

Celebrian reached behind her to squeeze Elrond's hand.

"Not so very busy, were you looking for him?"

Elrohir nodded and turned to look at his father.

"Ada, I was wondering if you would practise archery with me?"

He did have spare time, time that he had meant to spend with Celebrian, but yet Elrohir looked so eager. Elrohir did not join his brother in the morning sessions of fencing practice, and occasionally would rather read than participate when Elrond or Glorfindel found time in the evening to help. Elrond did not wish to spend more time with one child over another, and he hadn't seen Elrohir so excited about his training for a long time. Elrond gave Celebrian an apologetic look as he went to fetch his bow.

"Well why not Elrohir. I haven't taken up my bow in a long time."

Elrohir gave his mother a hug before skipping out of the room, dragging his father with him.

~*~

Celebrian was not too disappointed by this turn of events. She would be with her husband that evening for the meal and afterwards the singing in the Hall of Fire. And after all, with two small sons they had decided that any kind of peace was a distant dream long ago.

"No!"

A clear obstinate voice above the murmur of those previously in the garden drew her to the window. Her husband who was trying to resist being dragged out of the garden by Elrohir was standing over Elladan. Elladan was sitting on a large stone by the flowerbeds stabbing at the dirt with a stick.

Elrond moved closer, placing an arm around his eldest's shoulders. His son looked so upset and grumpy that he felt he had to offer some comfort.

"Please Elladan, will you not come?"

"No!" Elladan said more loudly.

"Why? Can you not shoot?" Elrohir asked innocently and unhelpfully.

"No! I do not wish to, that is why! No!" Elladan bellowed, throwing the stick at his unlucky brother and charging up the stairs to his room.

Elrond looked after his son, surprised at the outburst. He had only asked him if he would like to join them.

"Ada?" Elrohir asked sadly, wondering if they would still get to go and practice.

Elrond took Elrohir's hand in his and began walking to the training grounds. Elrohir's face lit up.

~*~

Elladan stomped upstairs slamming the door behind him with an impressive bang. In fact the bang was such a relief to his feelings that he repeated it three times for good measure. That matter having been dealt with he flung himself down on his bed, burying his face in the pillows.

He had wanted to go with his Ada, but he would never never let anyone see how bad he was at archery. Not ever! He must be terrible for he had had no comments on his skill, only reminders to aim and to hold the bow straight.

Sticking his head under the pillow he kicked the mattress as hard as he could, getting revenge for his feelings.

Celebrian, getting into her dress, wondered if she should go to him. It had been a long time since Elladan had had a tantrum such as this, but afterwards he was usually best left alone. At least until he had calmed down.

~*~

"Come Elrohir, it is time to go back!"

Elrohir skipped towards him, holding the arrows he had just plucked from the target. He put nine of them back in their quiver, but kept one out. Elrond raised his eyebrows.

"This is my special arrow Ada," Elrohir stroked it proudly, "When I hit the middle it was this arrow, and when I came closest in my training group it was this arrow!"

Elrond laughed, ruffling his son's hair. He took the weapons from Elrohir, being careful to keep the special arrow separate.

"Elrohir, could you do me a favour?"

"Yes Ada?" Elrohir looked up importantly. Favours usually involved breaking the news that his Ada was taking time off to be with his Ammë to an irritable Erestor.

"Could you run and find Glorfindel and tell him to come and meet me this evening?"

"Yes Ada!" Elrohir sprinted off obediently. Glorfindel was not unknown to give sweets to small elves that ran errands.

"He's a good little archer," one of the other fathers said, nodding in his direction, "He's got a good eye".

"I know." Elrond said, hoping he didn't sound too proud or smug.

~*~

Elrohir rapped gently on the carved wooden door to Glorfindel's study. He had barely stepped back when the door opened and Glorfindel and Erestor swept out. Glorfindel looked down at the child.

"I will be back in a minute Elrohir, go in and wait."

Elrohir tiptoed in, a little overawed by the peacefulness of the room. It was smaller than his father's study, and contained a large desk and several bookcases. It also contained a large leather padded chair.

Elrohir licked his lips, looking around to see if anyone was watching. There was not. He tiptoed to the chair and scrambled onto it, almost immediately lost in its depths. This was a chair for a leader. Elrohir sat back, looking out of the window above the desk, feeling powerful.

"Elrohir," Glorfindel was back in the room, seeing the small feet dangling from his chair before Elrohir could scramble out, "Did your father send you?"

Elrohir dropped to the ground blushing. Glorfindel smiled.

"The chair is comfortable is it not? When I sit in it I feel like a king."

Elrohir gaped at Glorfindel, wondering how he had read his thoughts. Glorfindel laughed, turning his back on the child as he reached for a book.

"Oh! Ada said that I was to say that you were to come and meet him this evening," Elrohir suddenly remembered his message. In the pause whilst Glorfindel made sense of this something else caught his eye, "What is that?"

Elrohir was pointing to a green glass paperweight on Glorfindel's desk. It was in the shape of a swooping eagle, and catching the sunlight it appeared to have some internal glow.

"It is a paperweight. A friend gave it to me long ago." Glorfindel looked up from his books and carefully handed the paperweight to Elrohir.

"Before I was born?" Elrohir asked, turning the heavy object over in his hands, admiring every angle.

Glorfindel suddenly smiled broadly as if laughing at some joke that Elrohir didn't understand.

"Oh yes, before you were born," he agreed as he moved to fetch another book, "Elrohir can you come and hold this for me?"

As Elrohir hurried across the room to Glorfindel's aid he stumbled slightly. The eagle flew out of his cupped hands and hit the floor, smashing into millions of tiny pieces. Glorfindel looked at the devastation and the shocked child standing among the broken fragments and closed his eyes in dismay.

"Oh Elrohir," Glorfindel said at last, his voice rather wooden, trying to hide his pain.

Elrohir looked up at his tutor still rather shocked at what had happened. He swallowed twice in an attempt to control himself before bursting into a storm of tears.

"Oh Glorfindel I did not mean to!" Elrohir wailed, tears rolling off his face and falling to the ground. He sounded - and was - completely heartbroken.

Glorfindel stepped carefully through the broken glass and picked up Elrohir. He carried him to the chair and sat down, holding the child to his chest. Devastated though he was, Elrohir's pain was intense and he needed reassurance now.

"It was an accident Elrohir; do not worry," Glorfindel rocked the child gently, trying to calm him.

"But it is broken," Elrohir dissolved into a fresh stream of tears.

"It was only an ornament, it does not matter." Glorfindel felt justified in the little white lie. Elrohir however did not fall for it. He slipped out of Glorfindel's grasp and ran to the door.

"I am sorry. I am sorry Glorfindel," Elrohir repeated needlessly.

Glorfindel set to clearing up the broken glass. He wished that he, like Elrohir, were still young enough to dissolve into tears over the loss. However, precious though the trinket had been, he would have gladly given it to spare Elrohir the guilt and pain.

~*~

It was late evening in Imladris by now. Flickering torches lit the terraces and courtyards and little groups of elves gathered on the balconies to talk before proceeding to dinner. Celebrian sat on her bed, watching the moths fluttering around the bright window, as her husband dressed for dinner.

Eventually the splashing in the bathroom stopped and her husband emerged, now dressed in a long blue and silver gown. Fetching a brush off the table, he sat down on the bed beside his wife to tidy his hair.

"Let me, Peredhil" Celebrian brushed her fingers over his, taking the brush and smoothing the damp hair away from his eyes. She worked in silence for a while, but then a playful smile lit up her face.

"Do you know what I am thinking?" her voice was teasing, laughing at her joke.

"I do not," Elrond replied. He had a fair idea, but when Celebrian's voice took that tone you could never really be sure.

"Guess," she challenged, her fingers working deftly on his braids.

"I will not," he tried to turn to see her expression but she did not allow him to.

"You have extraordinarily tangled hair!" Finished, she climbed off the bed, smoothing her skirt. Sometimes, Elrond thought as he watched her look in the mirror, she looked as vulnerable as a child.

"You look beautiful," Elrond stood and took her arm, leading her to the door.

Celebrian's face lit up with pleasure. She slipped a hand into his, weaving her fingers in-between his larger ones.

"Did you know that I love you?"

The laughing tone had returned. She needed no answer. She already knew.

~*~

Elrohir was sitting in a pile of hay in the stables, a chunk of maple selected from the woodpile in his lap, and a borrowed craft knife in his hand. Hidden in an unused stall he had been undisturbed by the guards and stable workers tending to the horses. It had been hard at first, and he had cut one of his fingers when the knife had slipped as he had fashioned an eye. The blood was dry now, and in that time the wood had developed shape and form.

He turned the wood over in his hands, checking that he had perfected the details of feathers in the wings. He had. Holding the carving gently in one hand he smoothed it down with sandpaper. When this was finished he wrapped it carefully in a scrap of cloth and stood up blinking as if he had awoken from a dream.

The stables were quiet now and the air outside was cool and quiet apart from the chirruping of insects in the shrubbery. He had never been out this late. There were elves moving along the balcony, hurrying to dinner.

Clutching his precious bundle to him he ran as fast as he could through the shadows to the main courtyard and up into the east wing where many of the important elves and guests had their chambers.

"Which chamber is Glorfindel's?" Elrohir asked a guard, hoping that he would be fooled into thinking that he was on a message from his father and wouldn't ask awkward questions. The ploy worked and Elrohir was led through the passageways to a door. The guard rapped sharply and strode off.

Elrohir suddenly wished that he were far from here or at least that Glorfindel was not in.

"Come"

Elrohir tentatively opened the door and tiptoed in. The room was empty, but judging by the movement of the shadows Glorfindel was in the bathroom. The child tiptoed over to the bed, placing the package on the coverlet before tiptoeing out as fast as he could and streaking back to the room he shared with Elladan just before his parents came in to bid them good night.

"That was lucky," Elladan whispered through the dark as a fully dressed Elrohir hopped out from under the covers and began pulling off his tunic, "Where were you?"

"Nowhere!" Elrohir cringed as the water he splashed on his face had long turned cold.

"Everyone's somewhere," Elladan hissed back, then as cold water was flicked towards him, "Orc Breath!"

Meanwhile Glorfindel had emerged, surprised to find no messenger waiting for him. Unwrapping the parcel was the second time that day he had felt like crying.

~*~

It was well past midnight when Elladan woke up. He could hear his parents bidding each other goodnight across the corridor and the peaceful sound of Elrohir's deep breathing. He lay in the dark, waiting until he was sure that his parents were asleep, before he slipped out of bed and ran down the corridor onto the terrace. For while lying in the dark he had come up with the perfect solution to all his problems.

He crept around to where the lower balcony bordered the windows of the bedrooms in the east wing. He tiptoed along pressing his face against each in turn until he found what he was looking for. Elladan gently prised open the window and slipped inside.

Glorfindel had not been having pleasant dreams. It was even more unpleasant to wake to find something small kneeling on your bed, staring into your face.

"Arggghhhh!" Glorfindel shot across the bed in a flurry of bedclothes, reaching franticly for his sword.

"It is only me Glorfindel," a little voice came out of the dark. It was Elladan's voice and he sounded bemused.

Glorfindel released his sword and lit the candle by his bed. It was indeed Elladan, dressed only in his nightshirt and shivering with cold.

"What is it Elladan, is your father hurt?" Glorfindel reached for his gown anxiously.

Elladan shook his head.

"Oh no! I just wondered if you would teach me archery."

Glorfindel looked at the child in amazement as he climbed back into bed. It was beyond him that anyone would wake another in such a manner. It was even more shocking that anybody could expect a favour after such behaviour.

"Oh please Glorfindel! I'll be ever so good," Elladan said earnestly with a violent shiver.

"Will your father not teach you?" Glorfindel wrapped a spare blanket round the boy and took the small hands in his own, "Why Elladan, you're freezing!"

Elladan nodded with chattering teeth and snuggled up close to Glorfindel for warmth. Not only a favour but a cuddle too, Glorfindel thought wryly.

"Well he will. . .," Elladan paused, "Its just I'd rather you taught me!"

Glorfindel looked steadily into the grey eyes. He did not like to be lied to. Elladan buried his face in the blankets.

"Elrohir's better than me! I can't do anything right. I can't even shoot in a straight line!" Elladan spoke as quietly and quickly as possible.

"So," Glorfindel waited until Elladan looked at him, "You want me to teach you because you can't bear to be second best?"

Elladan squirmed awkwardly. Glorfindel sighed, he really needed to talk to Elrond first but he sensed that he would not sleep again that night before giving an answer.

"Very well Elladan, I will teach you," the bed rocked violently as Elladan bounced happily, "But I have conditions."

"I'll do anything!" Elladan gave Glorfindel a huge hug.

"Indeed?" Glorfindel relented, returning the embrace, "I need someone to clean my bow and arrow and polish my sword after I train."

"I will do it!" Elladan declared loudly. Glorfindel clapped a hand over his mouth and placed a finger to the child's lips.

"Sorry" Elladan responded in a whisper.

"Good," Glorfindel sighed, "And Elladan, if I am to train you I will train you until you are skilled enough to no longer require my services. Do you understand?"

Elladan frowned. He had fully intended prancing back to show off to his father the moment he had got better than Elrohir. Glorfindel had guessed this. He also knew that as one of the chief instructors for the Imladris Guard many hundred years would pass before Elladan would have such an opportunity.

"Yes please!" Elladan hoped Glorfindel couldn't read his thoughts. They sounded so horrible when he considered them properly.

"Very well, I will see you on Thursday evening." Glorfindel lifted the boy onto the floor and pulled the covers over his head to dissuade further comment.

Elladan padded over to the window and opened it. Groaning Glorfindel got out of bed and picked the child up, wrapping them both in his warm gown. As he walked through the deserted and silent halls the small burden he carried slumped against his chest, breathing in a regular deep pattern. Glorfindel smiled in spite of himself as he watched the long dark lashes flutter as the boy wriggled into a more comfortable position and returned to sleep. By the time their deal had ended Elladan would be as tall as his father and would have seen evils that he could not even imagine. For now though the boys could be protected from the cruelty of the outside world, and short though the time would be, with that they must be content.

There was a lotion on the shelves of the healing rooms in Imladris. Kept in a large earthenware pot next to the bandages it had much less use now than it once did. There were no children left in Imladris and since this lotion was chiefly used to clean grazes and scratches many of its recipients had grown up and grown out of slipping out of trees or down rock faces. It's pungent lemony smell still made many an elf wince as they remembered its use in their childhood. For while it was excellent at discouraging infection it stung horribly when placed on the wound.

~*~

Imladris lay in the quiet shadow of an early summer's morning. The halls and passageways were empty save for a few early risers hurrying on their way, and were cool from the fresh morning air.

Quiet except for those quarters inhabited by the young twins of the Lord of Elrond and their unfortunate parents.

"And I shall gallop like this! Look!" Elrohir galloped noisily down the corridor making whipping motions with his hand.

"And I shall go even faster!" Elladan chased his brother down the corridor with less attention paid to the correct equine fashion.

Elrond groaned as two pairs of feet clomped past his bedroom door in an extremely un-elf-like fashion. Celebrian who had also been stirred by the noise pulled the blankets over her head, cuddling up closer to her husband.

"Why must they be up already?" he whispered into Celebrian's ear.

"Because some fool told them about the trip days ago," Celebrian smiled, "And they are far too excited to sleep."

There was to be no training this Wednesday. To enable his wife to have undisturbed time with her parents Elrond had decided to take the day off to occupy his young sons. Since Glorfindel also had some free time it had been natural that he should accompany them. Indeed Elrond still had reservations about doing anything with the twins without access to backup should the need arise. On an impulse he had also invited Erestor. The young advisor had spent little informal time with he or his family and he felt that maybe he should make more of an effort to get to know the elf. It had been decided that they would go on a short ride just beyond the outskirts of the valley and have a picnic. Since hearing of this plan the twins had been in a state of extreme excitement and the small mouths had barely shut for high pitched chattering.

"Boys," Elrond unwillingly got out of bed and went to the door to observe two elflings charging up and down the corridor in their nightshirts.

"Ada! Ada! Ada!" Elladan bounced on his toes grinning happily, "Is it time to go yet? Is it?"

"I'll get my pack Ada!" Elrohir dashed towards his bedroom, skidding on the floor in his haste.

"No, hush!" Elrond placed a finger to his lips; "Others are still sleeping. Why do you not return to bed a little while?"

Two faces fell showing exactly what they thought of this idea.

"Well why do you not wash and dress? You will need your capes." Elrond suggested as an alternative. This was much more attractive to the twins and they scrambled eagerly to the bedroom to change, for once not complaining about the iciness of the water so early in the morning.

When Elrond returned having dressed himself the twins were dressed if not completely tidily. Some assistance would be needed to braid their hair before they would be fit to be seen. Elrohir was flicking water at his brother who was standing at the end of his bed, his arms held wide.

"I am Thorondor!" Elladan cried as he leapt off the bed, his cape held out as wings behind him. Elrond winced as he hit the floor with a thump. He did not know which unfortunate elf slept in the room beneath him but he certainly hoped that he was blessed with being an extraordinarily heavy sleeper.

~*~

"Here we are," Glorfindel lifted first one twin and then the other onto two sturdy ponies, "Did you sleep well Elrond?"

Elrond gave his friend a look. Judging by Glorfindel's laughing expression he had heard the galloping elflings from the other side of the North Hall. Erestor looked from one to the other somewhat puzzled. He had never seen the Lord of Imladris answer such an innocent question with such a disrespectful look before.

"When can we have horses of our own Ada?" Elrohir piped up, rubbing the nose of his father's fine mount. Elrohir loved horses and longed for the day when he would be given an elven horse of his own. So far the twins' experience on horseback had been limited to trekking round the forests of Imladris on small grey ponies.

"Yes Ada! I think I am big enough!" Elladan agreed with his brother. After all they were just over three feet high now.

Erestor looked in amusement at the children. Both could have easily walked under their father's horse without need to duck. The thought of such a small elfling perched on such a large animal was quite ludicrous.

"You smile. What is funny?" Elladan asked sharply seeing Erestor's face. Neither child liked being laughed at.

"Nothing Elladan," Elrond broke in hastily, "It merely pleases us to remember how much you have grown since your birth."

Elladan looked at his father doubtfully and then gave Erestor a good first attempt at a withering look. Glorfindel suddenly found need to lay his face against Asfaloth's neck and whisper to the horse.

"When Ada?" Elrohir repeated insistently. He knew that if he did not press the point then his Ada would skip over giving an answer. Just as he had with the requests for boots instead of moccasins, or full sized swords, or going swimming on their own or indeed anything that the older elves were allowed to do.

"When?" Elrond looked to Glorfindel for help. He did not remember how old he had been when Gil-galad had assigned him a horse of his own. "When you are old enough to care for it and grown enough to need one."

Elrohir sighed, stroking the rough coat of his pony. His father may as well not have answered.

~*~

"This is a good spot!" Glorfindel dismounted and led his horse through a pine forest to a small grassy glade. The ground was soft with old pine needles and a stream was cutting its way down the hillside a few yards away. Many elves had stopped or rested here over the years and some large stones served as seats. Elrohir helped Glorfindel and Erestor tether the horses, listening eagerly to every instruction whilst Elladan ran off into the forest to gather firewood.

After the fire was lit, more thanks to Elrond's skill with flint and steel than the twins' attempts to copy him, Elrond led his sons across to the stream.

"There are fishes Ada!" Elladan pointed into the clear shallow water, tugging on his father's sleeve.

"I know Elladan," Elrond picked up some sticks and sharpened the ends, "We are going to catch some."

"We have no line," Elrohir looked up at his father puzzled. The twins had often watched elves fishing down on the riverbanks, indeed at the age of four it had been a favoured game to jump out on the longsuffering anglers, but it had always been with rod and line.

"We do not need line, watch." Elrond demonstrated aiming for a fish and spearing it with the sharp end of the stick.

"Let me try!" Both boys grabbed at the sticks, ready to try their hand at this new game.

"They will scare off all the fish," Erestor commented to Glorfindel who had stretched out on the ground, basking in the sun that filtered through the treetops.

"They can try," Glorfindel folded his hands behind his head and shut his eyes with a satisfied sigh, "That is better."

Erestor regarded the blond elf lord with amazement. He did not see how anyone could get any peace with the excited squeals and splashes from the stream drowning out all else. Propping himself up against a tree trunk he watched the two small figures leaping nimbly over the rocks around the stream in their efforts.

~*~

"Look, look!" Two elflings ran towards them, holding several fish out eagerly.

"Well that was a good catch," Glorfindel sat up in time to field fishy hands away from his tunic, "Did you get them all."

The grey eyes of the twins looked at each other.

"Not quite all."

"Ada helped."

"That was kind of him," Glorfindel's laughing eyes looked up to meet those of his friend, "Now I suppose you wish to cook the fish."

"Who would not?" Elladan asked looking closely at Glorfindel to see if he was joking.

"Oh there are those who would eat their fishes raw. . ." Glorfindel stood up and pretended to be examining Elladan's head, "No scales, no horns, no fangs. . ."

"I am not a monster!" Elladan shouted jumping up and down. Erestor winced at the volume of the exposition.

"So it seems. You would prefer the fish cooked then?"

"Yes!" Both twins shouted happily. Glorfindel grinned and went to join Elrond who had got out his knife and was preparing the fish for cooking. Five minutes later when the older elves grew tired of hearing all the gruesome things that the innards of the fish looked like the twins were dispatched to play in the woods without straying too far. The excited voices disappeared amongst the trees.

"It looks like squished worms."

"Or squirmy leaches!"

"No, skinned frogs!"

~*~

"You cannot defeat me foul scum of Manwë!" Elladan leapt out from behind a tree and swung his stick hard at Elrohir's head.

"It's not Manwë stupid!" Elrohir ducked and swung his stick with equal force at his twin's knees, "You mean Melkor."

Elladan jumped to avoid injury.

"I meant Manwë. I bet Manwë made foul fiends too!" Elladan hoped the volume of his excuse would negate the lack of fact.

"He did not!" Elrohir folded his arms, "Go and ask Ada."

"I do not need to! I know I'm right. You have to ask Ada to prove that you're wrong." Elladan's stick thumped into his brother's shoulder.

"Aw! Elladan that hurt!" Elrohir clutched his bruised shoulder glaring at his brother.

"It's not my fault that you cannot defend yourself!" Elladan said feeling guilty. The last strike had been out of anger rather than a game.

"You knew I was not playing!" Elrohir blinked back tears. His arm hurt and his brother had done it deliberately.

"How was I to know that your sword skills were too feeble to block a simple attack?" Elladan drilled the end of his stick into the mud.

"My sword skills are not feeble," Elrohir turned and began walking back to the picnic spot, "You're just nasty Elladan! And . . . and . . . I'm better at archery and grandfather likes me better, so there!"

Elladan clenched his fist painfully tightly around his stick. His brother had just poked a very large finger into his two sorest points. Clamping his lips tightly together he ran at his brother and jumped on him bringing them both down to the ground.

Elrohir responded with several hard kicks that were answered with a punch and a hard tug at his hair. For several minutes the boys wrestled on the floor rolling around among the dirt and pine needles, their arms and legs flailing as they tried to inflict injuries on each other. Eventually a foot placed firmly in his stomach winded Elrohir, enabling Elladan to struggle to his feet.

"You cannot even fight properly!" Elladan taunted ducking behind a tree.

"I do not care! Ammë and Ada love me best anyway!" Elrohir gasped as he sat up qualifying his argument as he saw Elladan pause considering the statement, "They said that you were a difficult boy. I heard them!"

Elladan stood stunned. He knew that he sometimes made his parents angry but he had never before considered that they would love him less because of it. The momentary pause in Elladan's evasive actions gave Elrohir the advantage he had been looking for and he shoved his brother hard.

Elladan stumbled backwards; grabbing at support that was no longer there. The push had sent him flying through some bushes and over the edge of the steep incline to the little stream.

"Elladan!" Their fight forgotten Elrohir dashed to the now exposed edge and knelt down looking for his brother. It was not a large drop in itself, maybe some five metres, but the slope was very steep and covered with craggy rocks and coarse heather and gorse. The heather was flattened in places where a small body had rolled down, leading to the swift flowing stream into which Elladan had plunged.

"Elladan?" Elrohir called nervously. There was no sign of his brother other than the wet marks on the rocks nearby where he had tumbled. He slowly lowered himself over the edge, making his way down the slope.

Elladan finally managed to catch hold of a tree root and scramble out of the water. The water was not very deep for an adult elf, but reached almost to his waist and flew rapidly making it difficult for him to maintain his footing. This combined with the shock of the icy coldness of the water had led to him being swept a little way downstream before he could reach the banks.

He sat down on a flat stone by the water's edge holding his breath in an attempt to avoid crying. He had hit his head hard in the fall and his elbows and knees were raw and bleeding. Clenching his hands into fists he began trudging back upstream, trying to fight the desire to begin crying so loudly that his Ada would come running to help him.

"Elladan!" Elrohir yelled catching sight of his brother and skipping lightly over the rocks to reach him, "You are alright!"

"I fell in."

"I am sorry Elladan. I did not mean it!" Elrohir hugged his dripping brother more to comfort himself that soothe Elladan.

"Neither did I." Elladan returned the hug, trying to forget the things Elrohir had said. It was not as good as a cuddle from Ada or Ammë, but considering that it made him feel much better.

~*~

"What happened to you?" Glorfindel asked bluntly as the two elflings wandered into the glade. Elladan was soaked through and had several nasty looking grazes. Both were covered in scratches and bruises and large quantities of mud and pine needles adorned their clothes.

"I fell down," Elladan said sadly as all three adults turned to look at them.

Elrond sighed and hoisted Elladan onto his knee as he examined the cuts.

"Now this might sting a bit," Elrond poured a little lotion onto some clean fabric and wiped the wounds. As he expected the boy flinched back as the lotion touched the grazes and he cuddled him close to his body. "There we are, not much longer."

"It hurts," Elladan whined trying to stop the threatening tears.

"I know. I just need to clean out some of this dirt melin," Elrond stroked the wet hair back from his son's forehead revealing a large red mark. "Did you hit your head when you fell?"

Elladan nodded and turned round to bury his head deep into his father's tunic. Elrond finished cleaning the wounds and wrapped his arms around the boy, rocking him back and forwards gently.

Erestor watched these developments in silence as he got out the bread and apples. Elrohir was gazing at his brother, his mouth open and fiddling with a torn edge of his tunic.

"Elrohir, do you want to help me cook these?" Glorfindel called out by means of distracting the anxious looking child.

Elrohir trotted over obediently and Glorfindel showed him how to turn the sticks to ensure that the fish cooked evenly. Elrohir leant back into the larger elf's body, gaining comfort from his warmth.

"Did Elladan fall far Elrohir?"

Elrohir nodded.

"Did that frighten you?"

Elrohir nodded again.

"You know it would frighten me too." Glorfindel gave Elrohir a quick hug.

"Really?" Elrohir looked up eyes betraying that he didn't believe that the large blond elf would be scared by anything.

"Really." Glorfindel smiled at the boy as Erestor caught his eye. The dark- haired advisor was staring at him rather blankly. "Erestor, is everything alright?"

"Oh," Erestor pulled himself together with some effort, "Yes, certainly Glorfindel."

~*~

With the twins now safely in the bath before bed Glorfindel and Erestor walked down the halls together in friendly silence. Although the day was now ending for the younger elves, they still had a formal dinner and an evening of songs to look forwards to before bed.

"Now, I must change." Glorfindel stretched sleepily as he paused next to the door to his room.

"Yes," Erestor turned away and then turned back in haste talking quickly, "They are so small. So young. So demanding. It must be quite impossible. . . I pity you Glorfindel."

"Pity?" Glorfindel swung around to face his fellow advisor. "What cause is there to pity me?"

Erestor shrugged.

"You are good to the squalling infants. They run to you. It must be such a. . . burden."

Glorfindel observed his friend's face for a few seconds.

"They are not a burden Erestor. I would not pity me," he went into his room quietly closing the door adding softly, "No Erestor I pity you."

Of all items of furniture in Imladris, Elrond was especially fond of his bed. It was over-proportioned and did not match the other furniture in the room, having been made hastily when Imladris was first founded. The ornately carved headboard had literally come from another age than the wardrobes and cupboards. And yet he liked it. The soft feather mattress was comforting and the bed was strewn with blankets of the softest wool and smooth pillows were scattered across one end. It had been their bed. And there were so many memories.

Wrestling with Glorfindel after a rather too merry evening and the priceless expression on Gil-galad's face as he had come to investigate the noise.

Celebrian flopping down on the mattress late in the evening after their wedding and hiding her face in the pillows to stop her nervous giggles.

Tiny twin elflings jumping on the bed, waking he and his wife from their well-deserved slumber.

The starlit evening that he had finally been able to sit by the bedside and hold a tiny, bawling child. His daughter.

~*~

It was gloriously warm and comfortable under the soft blankets and Elrond smiled in anticipation. A pleasant day had led on to a delightful evening of food, wine and song. With his small sons tucked up in their beds, happily thinking about fish and ponies, he had been free to change for dinner and meet the others at his leisure.

Even a day's separation had left him longing to see his wife, and the sight of her talking and laughing with her parents had made him feel so happy, so lucky. She had chosen him, and the smile that had lit up her face when he had entered the room had been only for him to see.

Lazily he propped himself up on the pillows to watch as Celebrian brushed out her hair and removed her gown. She was so special. No other elven princess could have taken on Glorfindel in a verbal sparring match and won. And she was his.

"Peredhil." She blew out the candle and climbed into their bed, snuggling close to his body.

Elrond kissed her ears and drew her closer to him, using one hand to tilt up her chin to enable him to kiss her.

"I love you." Celebrian whispered as she slipped one hand down his back and across his thigh.

"Ammë?" Elrohir slipped silently into the room and tugged at the corner of the blankets. Guiltily his parents broke apart wondering how anyone could have opened the door without making so much as a creak.

"What is it darling?" Celebrian sat up in bed, brushing her hair back from her face.

"I had a bad dream." Elrohir walked round to stand opposite his mother. "Elladan fell."

"Did he?" Celebrian drew back the covers, allowing the elfling to scramble into the bed. On her left there was a grunt as Elrond turned over, forgetting all thoughts of some time together

"It was frightening. It was a big big distance." Elrohir's voice grew quieter as his mother cuddled him closely, not bothering on this occasion to correct his word usage.

"You're my brave boy." The blonde head leant to kiss her son lightly on the cheek. Soon he would be asleep but there would be little hope of him returning to his own bed tonight. Careful not to disturb the child she reached back, joining hands with her husband and placing his arm around her waist.

Elrond smiled in spite of his annoyance. He could sleep now, and maybe in the morning little elflings would feel a need to play elsewhere.

~*~

Elrond shifted in his bed, careful not to wake his wife or son. He had been just drifting off to sleep when a small noise had disturbed him. Propping himself up on one elbow he listened to try and find the source of the noise.

Barely audible over the gentle breathing next to his ear, Elrond heard the noise again. A slight sniffle followed by the rustle of blankets. Curious he slipped out of bed, tucking the blankets in around his wife.

As he walked lightly down the corridor to the boys' room the noise stopped suddenly. Elrond grinned to himself in the dark. Elladan had not yet grasped that even if he was quiet, if the noise of his breathing stopped then people would know that he was still awake.

"Elladan?" Elrond spoke softly as he pushed the door ajar. Little was visible in the dim light of the moon, but he could make out a hunched figure sitting on the bed rather than sprawled in slumber.

Elladan's breathing resumed. To Elrond it sounded rather rapid and would catch every so often as if to hold back a sob. Wondering what could have upset both twins so badly, Elrond strode over, sat down on the lumpy heap of tangled sheets and blankets and wrapped a warm arm around Elladan's shoulders.

The boy practically leapt at his father, clinging as closely to the larger body as he could. Elrond held him tightly, rubbing the shaking back in comforting circles. He had obviously been awake for some time as he was no longer warm and cuddly from sleep, and his teeth were chattering slightly.

"Do you want to come back to bed with me and Ammë?" Elrond asked as he gently shifted the child to enable a proper cuddle.

Elladan shook his head, rubbing the dark hair into tangles against his father's chest. Elrond sat back with a sigh. At the age of six Elladan had decided that he was far too old to run to his parents when he woke after a nightmare. Unfortunately he was not too old to have nightmares. Elrond and Celebrian had then had to spend cold hours sitting in the boys' room, cuddling a terribly distressed child until he calmed. For in his attempts at bravery Elladan would not call for help until he was almost beside himself in fear. Elrond missed having a warm child to cuddle in the comfort of his bed, especially since it was usually he who had to soothe Elladan back to sleep.

"No?" Elrond stroked back the silky hair from his son's forehead. "Would you like me to stay here with you?"

"Yes." Elladan said his voice muffled.

Elrond attempted to disentangle a blanket and wrap it around the pair of them. Elladan wriggled, taking most of the blanket for himself, and moving cold toes against his father's warm legs. Smiling wryly Elrond scooped up the boy and turned him around, wrapping the icy feet in a fleecy blanket.

"What was in your dreams Elladan?" Elrond asked calmly, wondering what could have caused this upset. As far as he knew neither child had heard any tale about any particularly foul creature lately, and Glorfindel had been too busy lately to indulge in bedtime stories. Glorfindel's bedtime stories had a curious knack of producing nightmares in impressionable elflings.

"Nothing." Elladan spoke truthfully. He had not slept yet that night, lying silently in the dark whilst he pondered what his brother had said.

"Nothing at all? Not even a fire breathing slime spewing dragon from Dunland?" Elrond pretended to be surprised. As he had predicted Elladan giggled and hugged him more tightly.

"No Ada!" Elladan wriggled round to look at his father, dragging the blanket from his shoulders. "I would hit monsters with my sword!"

Elrond tried to grab some of the blanket for himself again before Elladan gathered it into a hood for himself. If not a dream then what could have bothered the child so much?

"Could you not sleep?" Elrond cupped the pointed chin in his hand and surveyed the pale face. The boy's eyes were wide but had grey shadows under them. It was not through lack of tiredness that Elladan had not slept.

"No." Elladan attached himself even more tightly to his father. Elrond sat for a while, cuddling him, while he wondered what had disturbed his son so. The way that he was clinging, desperate for affection, just wasn't right for Elladan.

"Do you wish to sleep now?" Elrond asked eventually as Elladan relaxed into his arms and his breathing grew deeper and steadier. The eyelids that had been flickering to their half-closed position flew open suddenly.

"No Ada! I am not sleepy." Elladan spoke with alarm as he hugged his father almost painfully tight. "Do not leave me Ada."

Elrond's eyebrows rose in surprise as he tried to breathe normally under the choking embrace.

"Would you like to go for a walk until you feel tired?" Elrond gave up all thoughts of a good night's sleep.

"Yes." Elladan smiled slightly as Elrond lifted him onto the ground and passed him his cape and moccasins.

~*~

It had been a long time since he had walked the paths through the forest of Imladris in the black hours of the morning, Elrond reflected. The memory of the last time made him chuckle softly, causing Elladan to give him an enquiring look. Glorfindel had really been surprisingly understanding when he had burst into his chamber in a blind panic the night before his wedding. That had not however prevented him from teasing him about it ever since.

"Why are you laughing Ada?" Elladan asked a little reproachfully.

"Oh, I was just remembering something a long time ago." Elrond took his son's warm hand in his own as they walked along the moonlit avenues.

"Something funny?" Elladan's voice rose hopefully. He clearly expected to be told the story.

"Not so very funny." Elrond looked down to see if his son would be prepared to leave it at that. The look on his face spoke otherwise. "I was just remembering when I couldn't sleep and Glorfindel and I came and walked out here."

"Glorfy is nice." Elladan said contentedly. Elrond ruffled his hair, he had clearly forgiven the blond elf for his temper and for that he was pleased.

"Yes Glorfy is very nice." Elrond reached forwards to catch the sleepy child as he stumbled on a stone. "Would you like a ride?"

"Yes!" Elladan hopped up and down eagerly as his father bent down, enabling the boy to scramble onto the back of his 'stallion'. Elrond walked slowly around the gardens hoping to lull the child into sleep, however when he paused near the riverbank and eased him into his arms, the eyes that looked up at him were very much awake.

"Are you still not sleepy?" Elrond asked him with a sigh. He was getting weary of the game that Elladan was playing. Although elves needed little rest, he still enjoyed the time to himself to think over his thoughts.

Elladan looked at him then shut his eyes suddenly as he turned away from his father.

"Maybe I am tired. I shall sleep now." A tear at the corner of his right eye glinted in the moonlight and his lips clamped tight.

Elrond bit his cheek in frustration. At times like this he felt that he should be branded a bad father and be done with it. His child had already been upset and now he had made it worse for what. . . a few hours of silence? Elflings were all too perceptive.

"No no. Oh Elladan." Elrond hugged the little boy tightly but got no response. "Would you like to stay here and watch the sunrise with me?"

Elladan swallowed hard a few times before speaking with an arrogant tone that he only assumed when trying to avoid crying.

"No. Do not worry father. I am quite tired."

Elrond winced at the word 'father'. In all nine precious years that he had shared with the twins they had never referred to him as such. He did not need to consider the phrase deeply to realise that it was not a term of endearment.

"Elladan, come here." Elrond scooped up the boy, glad that he was still able to outrun the child and overpower the attempt to escape, and sat down on a bench. "I am sorry. It is just that I am tired."

"Then why do you not return to bed?" Elladan refused to return the cuddle, drumming his heels against the bench, or rather deliberately missing and hitting his father's shins.

"Because I would not leave you alone." Elrond bent to kiss his son's forehead only to have the target jerked violently out of the way. Elrond closed his eyes. How had he managed to hurt his son that badly? It had been but a small irritation.

Elladan sat on his father's lap in silence, not willing to submit to a cuddle in his hurt, but unable to walk away in case his father did not pursue him. Then he would know that what Elrohir had said was true.

"Ada?" A tiny voice asked at last. Elrond's eyes jerked open, relieved at this small sign of forgiveness.

"Elladan?" Elrond look down into the earnest face. Elladan's eyes darted up and down, each time making eye contact, and each time losing courage. Eventually with his eyes on his father's boots he managed to uncertainly whisper to the floor.

"You. . . you would not sit with me if you did not love me would you Ada?"

"Elladan!" Elrond exclaimed as he wrapped his arms his eldest child. "Of course I love you. What made you think otherwise?"

Elladan happily sank back into the hug, suddenly feeling extremely sleepy.

"I. . . He. . . I love you so much Ada."

"I love you too little one. More than all the stars in the sky. More than anything."

Elladan smiled up at him sleepily, wrapping his arms around his neck, the dark lashes flickering lower.

"Was that what upset you?" Elrond kissed his son as he tried to think what could have been said to make Elladan doubt his parent's love.

"It was nothing." Elladan snuggled into his father's cloak. His Ada loved him after all and that was all that mattered right now. He loved him more than anything. Satisfied Elladan fell at last into a deep sleep, not even waking as he was undressed and tucked into bed.

Unfortunately his father was unable to find like peace, and as dawn broke he was still awake, worrying about what had been said.

Kind though he was, Glorfindel had no intention on allowing Elladan to slip by on his responsibility to fulfil his half of their deal. Since he had to train or lead hunts or armies on most days his weapons were usually in need of cleaning or repair. His pet hatred was to using the polish provided for cleansing blades. Kept in clay pots on some of the shelves of the watch room it had a curious rather unpleasant smell, somewhat like very old vinegar. It felt like a smooth thick sludge when wiped up by the rags, but when rubbed between the fingers felt slightly abrasive. By virtue of its stickiness and pale grey colour, it was often possible to tell who had been polishing days later by examining their fingernails if the task was not done carefully. Needless to say, one of Elrond's chief memories of the summer was constantly reminding to scrub under his fingernails, before meals, before lessons and before bed.

~*~

It was coming up for midsummer by now, an event that would be celebrated by a great feast and much singing and dancing. For the young elflings the highlight would be a short display of the skills they had learnt in training with coloured ribbons being given to the best competitors. Naturally both boys were exceedingly overexcited and spent most of their time pestering to practise. The time that was not spent learning their slowly improving Quenya.

Elrond and Celebrian were beginning to feel that they barely saw their sons unless they were bearing some weapon or describing in great detail how each would tackle some imaginary monster. Elladan in particular, as any free time that he did have was spent practising archery with Glorfindel or cleaning the blond elf's weapons in repayment for the favour.

~*~

"That's enough Elladan." Glorfindel slotted the arrow that he had just finished repairing into his quiver. "You can run along now."

"I am just finishing." Elladan dipped his rag into a jar of grey cream and carefully began giving the blade of Glorfindel's sword a last and unnecessary polish.

The blond elf began tidying up the shavings of wood and discarded fragments of feather. At first he had been worried about the small fingers moving swiftly millimetres from a razor-sharp blade, but the boy was being uncharacteristically careful and seemed in control of what he was doing.

He could well understand Elladan's desire to prolong the activity. The boy had never been allowed into the rooms of the Imladris Guard before, and the grey eyes had been wide as he had surveyed the sitting areas with large benches and tables, shelves of maps and equipment, and more weapons than he could remember seeing before. All the same the tall and brisk soldiers had been a little intimidating and at first Elladan had pressed back against Glorfindel's thigh whenever anyone particularly over-equipped or with especially gory injuries had come near. However once he had steered him into a quiet corner of the room and sat him on a table so they could talk face to face he had settled in well.

"Elladan," Glorfindel's voice was slightly amused, "I can see my face in that blade. Hurry along, your grandparents will be there."

A slight scowl crossed the boy's face and the dark head bent down as he began polishing with increased vigour.

Glorfindel looked at him with interest. The small mouth was pursed in concentration, the grey eyes carefully following every movement of his hand. There was a slight smudge of polish on his left brow where he had happened to have an itch at an inopportune moment. And yet despite appearing in every way a healthy elfling there had been an unmistakable expression of sadness at the last comment.

"Do you not wish to see your grandparents?" Glorfindel sat down again, close enough to the child to enable some degree of privacy in the conversation.

Elladan looked at him from the corner of his eyes. Glorfindel was his Ada's best friend and surely then he would tell his Ada exactly what he was going to say.

"Yes. They are most kind." Elladan tried to adopt a smile suitable for one who was looking forward to seeing his grandparents. Since his nose wrinkled at the thought of his grandfather the overall affect caused Glorfindel to laugh.

"Celeborn still a little sore?"

Elladan grinned mischievously deciding that if Glorfindel was laughing it was all right for him to laugh too. He cupped his hand around his mouth leaving a set of grey finger marks and whispered into Glorfindel's ears.

"He said I was insolent. . . and something else. . ." A finger crept towards his mouth, clearly intended for sucking as he thought. Glorfindel reached out automatically, taking the small grubby hand in his.

"Violent?" Glorfindel asked innocently, the blue eyes twinkling.

"No." Elladan said seriously, biting his lip. "It began with an i."

"Infantile?" Glorfindel grinned as he waited for the inevitable response.

"Of course not!" Elladan sat up as straight as he could. "I am nearly ten now Glorfindel!"

"Why, so you are!" The blond elf pretended to look thoughtful, "Now wait. . . could it have been. . . ignorant?"

"Noooo!" Elladan finally caught on that Glorfindel was teasing and grinned himself, leaning back on the palm of his hands. "It was like impi. . ."

"Impudent?" Glorfindel could well imagine Celeborn scowling as he pointed out the deficiencies of his young grandson.

"Yes!" Elladan grabbed the larger hand for attention, leaving it greyer than before. "And then he made a face like this! Watch!"

The youthful face twisted into an amazingly accurate caricature of Celeborn's displeased expression. The blond elf burst out laughing, supported by several other soldiers, one of whom was left choking on his wine.

"Right," Glorfindel wiped his face leaving a smudge of Elladan's polish on his nose, "I think that it is high time that you went and played with your brother. He will be missing you."

"Alright!" Elladan handed Glorfindel the sparkling sword and the polish before holding out his arms to be swung down from the table.

Glorfindel was about to send the child on his way when he noticed that though Elladan's appearance was well polished, he was not exactly clean. Maybe a trip to the washroom was in order.

"Come along" Glorfindel strode away leaving Elladan to hop-skip to catch up. Once in the steamy stone tiled soldier's bathhouse he drew up a bucket of warm water and wiped Elladan's face thoroughly with a soapy cloth.

"I was not. . ." Elladan was cut off, as he had to shut his mouth to avoid getting a mouthful of soapy water.

"Were you not?" Glorfindel lifted the boy onto his knee and helped him wash his hands.

"No. Anyway you are dirtier than me!" A wet hand reached for Glorfindel's nose and rubbed at the mark, leaving large amounts of soap bubbles behind. Elladan laughed and bounced in the way he often did when especially happy. "You look like it's been snowing Glorfindel!"

~*~

"Most excellent." Celeborn said as the arrow hit the target close to the centre. He patted his grandson's bare arm fondly. "You will become a good archer one day child."

Elrohir beamed at his grandfather. He had a highly secret ambition to be one of the lucky elflings that would win an archery ribbon in the display.

"Maybe one day I should like to be an archer in the Guard." Elrohir ventured looking up at his grandfather for approval. Elrond smiled, it was rare for Elrohir to voice an opinion for himself, usually just agreeing placidly with his more forceful brother.

Celeborn looked at Elrond, a slight smile forming on his lips, and raised his eyebrows.

"Why that sounds like a most excellent idea!" Elrond said encouragingly to his younger son. As both he and Celeborn knew, the role that the boy would assume as he grew older would be far more taxing than that of an archer, but he need not know that yet. And encouragement for voicing his own thoughts would shape his future much more effectively than explaining the complex politics of Imladris.

"There you are Ada!" Elladan shouted as he leapt down the stone steps, causing every single poised archer to miss the target. "Come and practice with me!"

Elrond turned with a sigh, trying hard not to get annoyed. He had promised the child that he would practice fencing with him, but he had got up at dawn this morning to do the same, and the shared time spent with Elrohir was improving his relationship with Celeborn immensely.

"In a minute child." Elrond finished helping Elrohir to fit an arrow to his bow.

"But you promised Ada! You said you would!" Elladan declared in a loud voice. Irate archers began to glower at the little group for disturbing their concentration. Elrond was about to scold him when Celeborn broke in.

"Considering your rather disappointing progress with the bow, maybe it would prove more useful for you to practice archery rather than repeat your exercises with the sword." Celeborn's voice was pleasant enough but Elladan naturally enough did not take it kindly.

"I do not wish to. The bow is a feeble weapon for those without the strength to wield a sword." Elladan scowled at his grandfather and continued pompously with a face at his brother. "Everyone knows that people who prefer archery are weaklings."

Elrohir looked crushed, his confident hold on the bow drooping slightly. Elrond sighed in irritation with obstinate elflings, willing his younger son to stand up for himself. Elrohir looked sadly at the floor while Elladan smirked in a satisfied way.

Feeling sorry for his little grandson, but recognising that this was a battle that he must fight for himself, Celeborn placed his large hand on Elrohir's shoulder and squeezed slightly. Gaining courage from the support Elrohir looked up at his brother.

"Glorfindel uses a bow and he is not feeble," Elrohir said calmly, narrowing his eyes at the end as he threatened his brother, "And I bet he would not like to hear you call him a weakling."

Elrond grinned at Celeborn, proud of Elrohir's stand. In truth he knew that Glorfindel favoured the sword over the bow, being rather excessively fond of exceedingly sharp shiny things, but Elrohir's retort had silenced his brother most effectively.

"Come along Elladan, let's go and get our swords." Elrond nodded farewell to his father-in-law and son. The look the boy had given him had spoken of feelings of betrayal at being ganged up on, and since he was still no closer to guessing what had upset his son so badly he did not wish to give any further cause for him to doubt his love.

~*~

The sky was darkening to the rich blue of halfway between dusk and darkness. A pale new moon was rising over the distant hills, and the evening star was newly visible on the horizon. The air was still, allowing the happy laughter of the twins as they skipped and jumped to try and catch fire flies to carry up to the balcony where the adults were sitting.

"And there is no news of the Ring?" Elrond asked, his voice low.

"No word has reached Lorien," Celeborn said solemnly, "And long have our scouts toiled."

"And the enemy has not risen," Elrond frowned, "If this power lay in their hands then I fear that we should have seen evidence of it before now."

"Far have I wandered in the wilderness. The road was long, but I regret that I too have no news, good or otherwise to bring." Mithrandir twitched the corner of his mouth as he thought. "And since the Ring abandoned Isildur, I cannot help but think that this bodes well for now."

"The Ring must have passed from middle earth." Curunír spoke decisively as the others fell reverently quiet. "The river must have carried it far out to sea. This evil has gone."

Glorfindel gave Elrond a worried look. He often led armies from Imladris and he had seen otherwise. Although the orc population was almost gone near Imladris there was no denying that it was slowly increasing elsewhere.

"But yet evil lives. . ." Glorfindel began, yielding quickly when Galadriel indicated that she wished to speak.

"Evil has not yet passed from middle earth Curunír." The ageless face was calm but her voice held a tinge of poison. "The Ring can only be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. While the Ring exists evil will prosper and he will search for what he has lost. In time it will be found."

The group fell silent. All that could be heard was a distant nightingale and the soft rushing of the waterfall. Elrond instinctively looked down to the garden. The pinpricks of light were still darting in the night air, but there were no longer shadows leaping after them. Quickly the dark eyes scanned the surroundings for any sign of two giggling elflings.

"What is the Ring Ada?" It had been Elladan who had spoken, but both twins stood before them side by side, their eyes wide with curiosity as they wondered at the seriousness of the voices they had heard.

Elrond paused, his mouth open. He wanted them to grow up in peace. To have no knowledge of the evils that had preceded their birth. Not to worry about misuse of power beyond their comprehension.

"It was a trinket lost long ago. It was precious to its owner. He would like it back." Galadriel's voice was soft and wise. That was all they needed to know at this stage.

"Oh. Like Ammë wears Ada's ring for ever and ever?" Elladan walked over to lean against his mother, touching the silver band on a slender finger lightly.

"And you want to find it to give it back to him and make him happy." Elrohir smiled at his sudden understanding. "When Lindir lost a button we helped him search and Elladan found it under the bench."

"Very good. He must have been pleased." Galadriel murmured, hoping to steer the topic away from magic rings. The atmosphere around the table had grown somewhat awkward.

"He was! He let us come into the kitchen and gave us each a cherry bun." Elrohir smiled at the memory. Cherry buns were his favourite treat at present.

"Come along. It is time for your baths." Celebrian voice was brisk as she decided that the boy's hasty exit would be welcome. Taking a small hand in each of hers she led the twins back into the house. As usual Elrohir complained, pointing out how very clean and awake he was. Elladan however was unusually silent, looking back at his grandmother with a thoughtful expression.

~*~

"There's the big dragon!" Elrohir pointed eagerly at the page, narrowly beating his brother to the goal. Ever since they had been given this book on their begetting day five years ago this had been their favourite bedtime story, and whenever Elrond turned to the large illustration of the main battle it had been tradition to attempt to spot the dragon first. At least, Elrond thought, they had grown out of crying if they came out second best.

"Are there really dragons that big out there?" Elladan rested his head against his father's side, warm and comfortable on the large bed.

"In a land far from here." Elrond confirmed, hugging both his sons.

"Have you seen one Ada?" Elrohir's eyes grew large, strands of dark hair falling down over the rosy cheeks as he turned to look at his father.

"Long ago." Elrond felt extremely content with life; all troubles seemed far away and unimportant at this moment in time. Free from any formal engagements this evening, he was able to read to his boys before bed. The whole activity had become fixed in routine over the years, but that only made it all the more special.

After the long day he had been glad to remove his boots and outer clothing, lying down on his bed in his undershirt and leggings. Presently the splashing and laughing from the bathroom across the hall came to an end and two clean, warm elflings had come rushing in. Both had recently been given new, larger nightshirts and as yet these swamped their small bodies, the sleeves falling well beyond the elbow and the scabbed knees covered in the soft white fabric. Dressed like this the children were almost indistinguishable, cheeks flushed from the bath, dark hair combed out loose across their shoulders and both pairs of eyes sparkling in anticipation.

But he knew which was which. It was Elladan who had come bounding across the room and had bounced onto the bed, giving him a huge bear hug. It was Elrohir who had fetched the large book from the dressing table and had scrambled onto the bed, wriggling into a cuddle.

It felt good to be warm and safe, an elfling cuddled in each arm. Having the power to give others so much happiness. And to know that later he would have his beautiful wife all to himself. . . for he intended to lock the door. 

They were only ribbons - tattered now. Their sheen hidden in the crumples, their edges torn and frayed. Wrapping the delicate fabric around his fingertips Elrond closed his eyes for a few moments, savouring the memories that they brought back. Long afternoons on the sun scorched grass, banners and flags fluttering in the summer breeze and the high pitched music of childish voices. And above all colour - the rich greens of the lush shady trees, bright blues of a cloudless sky and the red, yellow and oranges of the bright ribbons tied across a few lucky elflings' chests.

A dry sob escaped his lips. There was nothing he had that he wouldn't give to be able to spend just one day back there. A day with children whose thoughts had not yet been tainted with the evils they had seen. A day with Celebrian. . . even an hour with Celebrian. Just to let her know once again how much he loved her.

~*~

"I will win a ribbon today Ada!" Elladan said conversationally as they walked down the path to the gardens together, the small feet skipping in step with the larger ones.

Elrond smiled slightly. Modesty was not one of Elladan's virtues, the boy seeing little need to hide his pride in his accomplishments. However pride came before a fall, and this fall would hurt Elladan greatly.

"And you are sure of this?" Elrond was careful to keep his voice neutral.

"Of course I cannot be sure Ada!" The young voice held a hint of frustration at the withered brains of ancient elves. "But I am faster than the others and I have beaten them with the sword already!"

"Ah." Elrond stared off into the distant trees.

"I want to win a red ribbon!" Elladan continued cheerfully, his eyes sparkling at the anticipated glory.

Of course he did. He was Elladan, and Elladan did not appreciate coming anything other than first. Elrond wondered if he should tackle Elladan about his pride. While he did not consider it a problem at present, he could not help remembering the one comment his blond-haired friend had made to him about his famed battle.

"I was young, foolish and arrogant. I was carried away in dreams of being a hero. I was reckless, Elrond."

He would not choose such a death for his child. However honourable it may be. Even the idea of seeing one of the identical faces pale in a sleep from which they would not wake made his stomach twist.

"Aye. It would be nice should you win a ribbon. Elrohir too." Elrond spoke absentmindedly.

Elladan wrinkled his nose slightly. It would be better to have the victory wholly for himself. For he could not also hold that which Elrohir won. And he did not wish to share triumph.

"Yes Ada."

~*~

Elrohir watched his father and brother from the bedroom window as he dressed. His stomach seemed to be leaping with pent-up anticipation and excitement. Maybe today he would have the chance to shine, for his life so far had involved him coming second only to his brother in every physical pursuit. But archery. . . archery was his.

Hopping up and down on the spot to dispel his nerves he pulled his undershirt on over his head. He was not overly fond of the loose soft cotton undershirts that he and his brother wore. All the adult elves he had met wore smooth, highly embroidered undershirts of a cool linen with buttons at the neck and cuffs. Ever since he had seen them, as a tiny child sitting on the bed as he watched his father getting dressed by candlelight, he had longed for an undershirt with buttons.

"Elrohir, are you ready?" Celebrian disturbed the boy from his contemplation on the fashions of Imladris.

"Very nearly." The green tunic was pulled on with so much haste that it dragged out the braids that held his hair back from his face. Celebrian stood behind her son, steadying him with a hand on his arm.

"Here Elrohir." She deftly brushed his hair, fingers moving swiftly as she completed the braiding, fastening them rather more firmly than before with lengths of narrow leather thong. She patted the child on the shoulder. "All done."

"Thank you Ammë." Elrohir spun round and danced on the spot, his feet barely touching the ground. Then he looked hopefully up at his mother as he remembered a promise. "The displays are today."

"That I know." Celebrian's smile was kind. "And I should very much like to come and watch you."

Elrohir beamed at her and skipped around the room in excitement.

"I want you to see me shoot! They said that I may win a ribbon." He did not let his proud smile show on his face, but his eyes were dancing.

"I am looking forwards to that very much." Celebrian found to her surprise that she was telling the truth. She had never enjoyed the long boring displays that male elves found necessary to include in every celebration, but watching her son would be different.

"Ammë, will Celeborn come and watch me?" Elrohir's voice rose inquisitively.

Celebrian paused. Although he tried to hide it, she could tell that this meant more to Elrohir than he would admit. But her father. . . kind, wonderful and even loving in his own way. . . had never taking pleasure in watching the young elves she had grown up alongside. And he would not realise how much he could hurt his grandson by merely speaking the truth.

"I do not know Elrohir. Why do you not ask him?"

"Yes," Elrohir smiled suddenly at the obvious solution, "I shall go and ask him."

Celebrian made a futile grab at him as he tore down the corridor to his grandparents' bedchamber. Maybe the Lord and Lady of the Wood would find it in their hearts to appreciate an early morning wake up call.

~*~

During the years that had passed since Celebrian had departed to live in Imladris, Galadriel and Celeborn had become careless. With nobody left to burst in through their bedroom door they no longer thought to keep an ear open for approaching feet outside their door. This necessitated some speedy action when suddenly faced with an elfling who had not thought to knock.

"Good morning!" Elrohir chirped happily as he clambered onto the bed and sat at one end as he often did when visiting his parents in the morning. Having grown unused to such small children over the years Galadriel and Celeborn exchanged an awkward glance.

"Aye. It is a fine morning." Celeborn wriggled his toes as his small grandson reached under the sheets to tickle the soles of his feet. "Do not do that Elrohir!"

His voice came out more sternly than he intended - too sternly for talking to a child. Elrohir stopped immediately and retreated to Galadriel's side of the bed with a woeful look at his grandfather.

"I am sorry Celeborn." The child spoke quickly, his voice shaking a little.

"Nay. I am sorry Elrohir. I am just very prone to tickles." Celeborn smiled with concern at the boy and held out his hand. Elrohir smiled back, taking the larger hand and crawling up the bed to sit next to the older elves' faces.

Celeborn looked at him as if to appraise the boy's intentions. His face was more like his father's than his mother's but it was possible to discern the more delicate features of their side of the family. The eyes may have got their colour from Elrond, but the depth within them was that of Galadriel. The small slightly upturned nose came from their mother, but the determined set to the mouth and the firm chin had come from him. Celeborn smiled at the thought.

Galadriel watched the pair with amusement bringing light to her eyes. Celeborn had wanted a son, and although he had loved Celebrian dearly she had known that he had missed having a male heir. Only her husband - bless him - lacked practice at spending time in the company of children. She knew what Elrohir would ask of him, and only hoped that he would find it in him to humour the boy. Celeborn had reduced some of the younger archers in Lorien to tears on occasion with his sharp criticism of their skills.

"Celeborn?" Elrohir's eyes widened imploringly, "Are you going to watch the displays this afternoon?"

Celeborn began to say no, but seeing the sudden downturn of the boy's lips managed to pull off a sudden coughing fit.

"Why of course. I hear that you are competing?" Celeborn's voice was surprisingly genuine. Galadriel smirked smugly.

"I love you Celeborn!" Elrohir flung himself on his grandfather's chest, inadvertently winding him as he gave him as large a hug as a nine-year-old elfling could manage.

Galadriel treated her husband, who looked as if he had just swallowed a large mouthful of snow, to a smile that suddenly lit up her whole face.

"And I too."

Celeborn reached down, lightly touching the tips of her fingers with his own. She did not need to read his mind to know that he had heard and understood.

"Celeborn?" Elrohir's voice floated comfortably from where he was resting his cheek against Celeborn's chest.

"Yes Elrohir?" Celeborn spoke with amused tolerance.

"Why do you not wear your nightshirt?"

Celeborn and his wife exchanged a quick look.

"I was a little warm last night."

"Oh." Elrohir spoke thoughtfully. "Because you were sleeping right next to grandmother."

"Aye." This conversation was fast going into places that Celeborn did not wish to explore.

"It must be very hot." Elrohir added in a knowing voice. "Ammë and Ada take off their clothes all the time too. Why do you not open the window?"

"Elrohir." Galadriel spoke quickly and gently while her husband looked as if he might choke. "Should you not go and see if breakfast is ready?"

"Oh yes!" Elrohir leapt off the bed as easily as he had come up. He could hear the table being laid and if, as usual on Wednesday mornings, they had eggs he would need to get there as soon as possible to make sure he got his fair share. Once he had gone Galadriel turned to her husband.

"She is so very happy here."

"Aye." Celeborn got up suddenly and headed for the bathroom with surprising speed. This was one topic of conversation that he did not want to discuss.

~*~

"Breakfast!" Elladan practically threw his sword at his father and bolted up the path when he heard the bell chime. Elrond smiled to himself. Both boys were particularly fond of the dipping fingers of fresh bread into softly boiled eggs for their breakfasts. However it was never the tidiest or most formal meal and he would have chosen another day to eat with his parents-in-law if he had been able.

"See. . . this is a sword dripping orc blood!" Elrohir drew his chunk of roll out of the shell, allowing the bright yellow goo to drip back down.

"And I have a spear!" Elladan stabbed the bread into the flesh of the egg with enough force to kill an orc. Droplets of yolk splattered all over the tablecloth.

"Boys." Elrond spoke quietly, but there was a definite warning tone in his voice.

"Sorry Ada." Both boys looked down at the table, licking sticky yellow stains from their fingers.

The meal progressed unusually quietly for 'egg morning'. The two boys eyed each other across the table, grinning at some secret plan.

"May we have some more eggs please Ammë?" The twins spoke together, every syllable and tone matched. They rounded this off with identical innocent smiles.

Elrond and Celebrian who had been beginning to relax immediately switched to states of high alert.

"Of course." Celebrian served them each an egg, giving each twin a threatening look. The speaking together act was usually reserved for an occasion when they had just thought up some new mischief.

"Thank you Ammë." Speaking together the boys smiled at their mother and then, when they thought that nobody was watching grinned at each other.

"I am beheading a troll!"

"I am decapitating a dragon!"

The two voices were shouted together as two knives were swung at two eggshells. The tops of two eggs sailed together across the table, landing together in the lap of one very annoyed Lord of Imladris.

Some thirty seconds later two rather abashed elflings were standing outside the door, wiping yolk from their chins.

~*~

After a lengthy lecture on the evils of playing with one's food the twins were dispatched to play quietly in the garden, for there were no lessons on midsummer's morning and Elrond was far too busy organising the various entertainment to be practising with his sons.

"I shall race you to the fountain!" Elladan tagged his brother by tapping him lightly on the chest and darted off across the balcony with his brother in hot pursuit.

The two sprinted lightly down the steps and across the lawns. However as Elladan prepared to take the steps in a flying leap he glanced back to judge his lead. Tripping on a stick that they had once used as a sword he stumbled and went flying to the ground and tumbled head over heels down the steps.

Celebrian heard his surprised cry and immediately dropped her sewing, far outstripping her sons in her speed over the grass to where her son was sitting, clutching his wrist. In no time at all she was sitting at his side, gently prising his fingers away from around his wrist.

"Where does it hurt melin?" He did not seem badly hurt, but he had flinched as she had touched the rapidly swelling joint.

"My. . . my wrist." Elladan gasped as he struggled against tears, nuzzling up against the soft silk of his mother's dress.

Looking terribly worried Elrohir approached his brother and touched his uninjured hand. The contact seemed to comfort the pair of them, as Celebrian was then able to examine her eldest son's injury without having to fight against him. Both boys cuddled up against her body, even the steady rhythm of rise and fall of their chests in time.

~*~

Elladan lay miserably on the bed in the infirmary. He was supposed to be asleep but the medication had worn off and he had no wish to return to his dreams. There was a heavy peacefulness in the infirmary and little of the bustle of everyday life in Imladris was audible from its warm rooms. Some time ago he had heard the distant chime of the mid-day bells, and surely by now the displays would be starting.

Awkwardly he dropped down off the edge of the bed and wandered unsteadily to the chair on which someone had placed his neatly folded clothes. His wrist still throbbed slightly and was bound tightly with bandages that smelt of herbs. This made it difficult to dress, but eventually Elladan managed to wriggle into his tunic. It was on inside out and back-to-front, but at least he was dressed.

Smiling in spite of the growing pain, the boy slipped his feet into the battered moccasins and ran lightly across the room, slowing slightly when every step that jarred his wrist caused flashes of pain to travel up his arm. If he hurried he might just be in time to participate in the first event.

However he had only reached the door when his face rubbed against the soft velvet of someone's gown and he was picked up and carried back to the bed.

"But Ada I want to go to the displays!" Elladan's voice was unusually close to a whine.

Elrond sat down on the bed beside his son and placed his arm across the small shoulders.

"I am sorry Elladan. Your arm will be healed in a few days, but for now you must rest."

There was a loud sniff and Elladan's voice shook noticeably.

"But Ada. . ." Elladan paused to lick a tear from his cheek.

"I know." Elrond gently removed his son's tunic and shoes and made him comfortable on the bed once more.

"No." Elladan tried to struggle, but since his arm was hurting and he was blinded by the tears that were pouring down his cheeks, he may as well not have bothered.

"There will be other displays." Elrond lifted him easily to hold his child in his arms. "But it was this one that mattered was it not?"

Elladan nodded and might have given an affirmative sniff before he rested his face against the soft warmth of the velvet tunic and let all his tears flow.

~*~

Outside in the warmth of the afternoon sun dozens of small boys raced energetically about the glades calling and laughing to each other with happy voices. Celeborn sat comfortably on the grass, leaning against a fallen tree trunk. Curled up at his side was his daughter, smiling as she watched her son run gracefully along a rope. She was leaning her head against his shoulder and a wisp of blonde curl tickled his cheek, but he did not mind.

He had missed his daughter, and although he had expected it to fade in time, instead the sadness had grown more intense. He had missed having a child around. When you were an elf of several thousand years, the natural wonder of the world had to a large extent faded into monotony. But when accompanied by his young daughter he had been able to see the world anew - a world of freshness, the green of new leaves, the lilting song of the stream and the hope of tightly closed flower buds.

But she had left him, and he would have given his life before taking this happiness away from her. The overwhelming happiness of the look she had given him as she had repeated her vows had assured him that. But he missed her. And even the little things that reminded him of that hurt.

"Ammë!" Elrohir yelled delightedly as he bounced towards them, a ribbon bright on his chest. "We won! We won!"

Celeborn could not resist a smile at the boy's exuberance as he leapt around them, leaping on and off the log.

"I'm very proud of you." Celebrian caught his hand and pulled him down for a kiss.

"Indeed, very well done." Celeborn suddenly found that it was surprisingly easy to be around small boys. Elrohir beamed and danced over to his grandfather to show him his ribbon.

"It is orange for we came second! Second!" Elrohir's pleasure was evident in every half-laughing word he spoke.

"Aye. You did well." Celeborn ran his fingers over the ribbon, wondering when he lost the ability to derive so much joy from something so simple. "You are fast on the ropes."

Elrohir grabbed an adult's hand in each of his and danced around, pulling the father and daughter into a victory dance. Celebrian caught her father's eye and smiled both at her son's contagious joy and the obvious happiness that her father was gaining from it.

~*~

Elrohir sat on the floor of the sitting room, pulling his ribbons across his fingers while smirking at his brother. His brother did not respond, just sitting despondently in his father's lap with a book, his eyes looking unseeingly at the page.

The soft murmur of voices as his parents and grandparents conversed with the Istari was too peaceful. Too pleasant. It was not fair. He had won and nobody cared. Just because of Elladan.

"Look at all the ribbons I won." Elrohir walked over to his brother, thrusting them into his view.

Elladan did not answer.

"I won them see. Because I am the best." Elrohir continued in a provocative voice. He wanted to fight. He wanted people to get upset.

"Elrohir." Elrond's voice warned him that further taunting of his brother would not be tolerated.

Scowling Elrohir again sat down on the floor speaking himself in a very audible whisper as he counted his ribbons.

"Two red ribbons, three orange ribbons and a yellow ribbon. And Elladan has none."

Elrond sighed as he looked to his wife for support. Where he had been cuddling Elladan a moment ago, now his arm was being used more to restrain the child.

"Elrohir, do you wish to go to your room?"

"No Ada." Elrohir spoke in a slightly mocking tone. "I wish to admire my ribbons. Especially my red ribbon for fencing. I am the best at fencing."

"Elrohir." Elrond's voice rose slightly in anger. "Please go to your room."

For the love of Eru why did his children have to behave in the worst possible manner when he had guests. He could think of so many times when his children had been sweet and well behaved. . . but never in front of those whose opinions mattered.

"No I shall not!" Elrohir stood up, folding his arms in a symbol of defiance although his voice began to shake. "It is not fair! You did not even watch me! Everybody else's Ada came to watch them!"

Elrond cringed at the implication of failure in Elrohir's outburst. Why could he not understand how hard it had been to make the decision?

"Elrohir, come here child." Elrond spoke sympathetically, lifting Elladan from his lap and heading towards his other son. Parents blessed with twins should surely have each been blessed with two bodies.

"No." Elrohir was beginning to cry now. "You were not there. You do not love me."

"Of course I love you, child. Had Elladan not been hurt of course I would have watched you." The elf lord's brow wrinkled in concern as he spoke.

"Only to watch Elladan!" Elrohir wailed "You love Elladan best!"

"Come here melin." Celebrian crossed the room and attempted to cuddle Elrohir who was stiff with rage, tears running down his face. "We do not love anyone best. There is plenty of love to go round."

"You do." Elrohir began to whine, drawing out the vowel sounds as he cried. "I am so good and Ada said Elladan was difficult but you still love him better than me!"

Celebrian looked uncertainly at Elrond. He shrugged slightly, his feelings of powerlessness betrayed in his face.

"I came and watched you Elrohir. So did your grandfather." Celebrian's voice held the tone of someone trying to pacify a Balrog with maple drops.

"Nobody cares that I won. Nobody cares that I practised so hard." Elrohir stopped sobbing to take a noisy intake of breath before screeching at his parents. "I hate you! I hate you!"

"Elrohir. Child." Elrond sighed as he stepped towards the child who threw the precious ribbons at him and turned and ran. Rubbing the bridge of his nose Elrond returned to his seat. He tried to remember how Gil-galad had dealt with such outbursts - if either he or Elros had ever treated him to such a display. He could not remember it happening.

"It is not your fault." Celebrian took his hand, rubbing his palm with her thumb. Hysterical outbursts were a trait of her side of the family but while her Ammë had always managed to keep a no-nonsense attitude while she sobbed, she was unable to pull it off herself.

"Elrond, how is your river for fishing?" Galadriel spoke briskly, hoping to move the conversation on.

"Indeed, I must believe it is quite magnificent for the salmon we had last night was delicious." Mithrandir supported her with as unruffled a comment as he could think of.

"It is well." Elrond said tiredly. He felt over stretched. He had a community to govern, a people to protect and guests to entertain. His wife was looking distressed, his elder son was sitting silently looking sadly between his parents and somewhere in the halls of Imladris his youngest was crying his eyes out. "All is well".

~*~

Elrohir ran blindly down the halls eventually ending up in the east wing. Since his father was Lord of Imladris there was nowhere he could go that he could not follow. Nowhere that he could hide that his father did not know existed. He had his brother had decided long ago that they only way to escape was to squeeze into a place too small for any other to follow.

Climbing on a window seat and then a small table, Elrohir managed to scramble into a small gap between a column and a statue. He had grown since he had last used this hiding place and it was cosier than he had anticipated. In fact if he were to breathe at all he would have to leave at least some of himself exposed. He was about to go and find a better hiding place when he heard the soft sound of elven feet coming up the corridor.

He shrunk into the stonework but the footsteps paused and a hand rapped lightly on his protruding elbow.

"Why do you hide child?" The voice was kind but it belonged to Erestor. Miserably Elrohir turned around.

"I am playing." It was an outright lie and Elrohir immediately blushed furiously.

"You are crying." Erestor observed awkwardly as he tried to remember how Glorfindel had reacted. "What has made a grown boy like you cry?"

Erestor winced slightly as he heard the words come out of his mouth. He had not meant them to sound like that. Elrohir's shoulders sagged and the tear- stained face frowned.

"I am not crying."

"Yes you are." Erestor spoke in a genuinely puzzled voice.

"I am not!" Elrohir's voice rose dangerously. Erestor took a few steps backwards.

"But child. . ." Erestor could not hide his exasperation as he spoke.

"Good evening Erestor." Glorfindel called in a cheerful voice as he skimmed his way down the corridor. "Ai, Elrohir. What has upset you?"

Erestor felt he had no choice but to withdraw as Glorfindel came to a halt by his side and shifted Elrohir into his arms with no resistance whatsoever. Elrohir sobbed out a jumble of words that both elves were completely unable decipher.

"All that?" Glorfindel rubbed the boy's back, attempting to soothe the sobs.

Feeling unwanted and unappreciated Erestor stalked away, the annoyed slant to his shoulders ignored as Glorfindel tried to comfort the child.

~*~

Elrohir snivelled as Glorfindel carried him into a large sitting room and sprawled on one of the benches, setting the boy down gently. It was a large room with many seats and bookcases, warmed by a crackling fire. Since its occupants included several of Glorfindel's friends, the peaceful effect of low tables and soft rugs was ruined by the dull rasp of a sword being sharpened and the glint of firelight on metal as someone demonstrated his skill at dagger work. Hidden away in a corner Erestor was reading a book, a slightly disapproving expression on his fair face. He could not understand why Elrond had suggested that he shared a sitting room with this particular group of elves.

"And what bothers the youngest son of Lord Elrond this evening?" Glorfindel spoke lightly but his eyes were darkened with concern.

Elrohir looked up sadly at Glorfindel, the tear-filled grey eyes large in his face.

"I feel sad." He announced in a quiet voice.

Glorfindel allowed himself a small smile. He had not known the twins since babyhood to be unable to detect their simplest emotions.

"Really?"

Elrohir nodded, moving up a hand to cover his nose and mouth.

"And what makes Master Elrohir sad tonight? For I watched him triumph above all others this afternoon."

Elrohir smiled, sitting up a little straighter in his pride.

"I did." The smile faded. "But Ada does not care. He loves Elladan best."

The blond eyebrows shot up.

"Oh?" Elrohir's chin began to quiver so Glorfindel sat up and scooped the boy into his lap. Across the room Erestor's eyes had moved from the page and were now firmly focussed on the pair. "What happened Elrohir?"

"Ada did not watch me." Elrohir lowered his eyes sadly. "And he does not care that I have won. Everyone cares when Elladan wins."

Glorfindel sighed and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind a pointed ear while he thought of a suitable answer.

"He does care Elrohir. He cares very much. But he would not leave either of you boys alone when you needed him."

"I needed him today." Elrohir's eyes flashed with an anger that threw Glorfindel slightly off guard. He was well used to small upsets and tantrums, but this was new.

"No Elrohir, you wanted him today. You wanted to show him that which he already knew. Your Ada does not need ribbons to love you." Glorfindel frowned as he thought. "But Elladan needed him badly."

"Elladan did not need him! Elladan slept!" Elrohir wriggled away angrily from the comforting hand on his arm, but as he considered what Glorfindel had said he relaxed slightly.

Glorfindel smiled a little sadly, his eyes worried.

"Elladan was very upset Elrohir. Your Ada would never leave you whilst you were crying."

"Elladan does not cry." Elrohir said in a confident voice. Then looking up at Glorfindel's face with an expression that was both worried and curious he asked, "Did he?"

"It was very important to him. He had practised so hard." Glorfindel had been slightly worried about the intensity of the child's determination, wondering whether he should talk to him about the relative importance of winning and participating. But yet he had been much the same when younger.

"Oh." Elrohir's lips began to pucker up at the thought of his twin being that upset. Glorfindel sighed at the impossibilities of comforting young elves and set Elrohir on the floor. "Do you want to go to him?"

He had thought that the young twins were growing apart, but in some ways they grew closer as they aged. Their shared concept of the other's pain had increased, but unfortunately the ability to share pleasure in the other's joy had not yet developed.

Elrohir hesitated, transferring his weight from one foot to another.

"They will be angry with me." His voice was but a whisper but the sharp ears of the blond elf caught both the words and the ashamed tone.

"And why would that be?" Glorfindel glanced at the setting sun and his friends as they left the room. He would need to change soon for dinner, and if he was not mistaken then Elrohir should also be preparing himself to attend.

Elrohir went red and looked towards the door. Glorfindel grinned.

"Did you shout and stomp?"

"I do not stomp." Elrohir replied with much dignity, his grey eyes narrowed. The blond elf laughed merrily, his eyes far away as he recalled some long forgotten memory.

"You do not? I did."

"You did?" Elrohir's voice was at one shocked that the esteemed elf-lord would ever resort to stomping, and proud that he should choose to share this secret with him.

"Aye. Whenever I did not approve of the happenings." Glorfindel's eyes twinkled as he guessed what Elrohir was thinking. "I was something of a trial."

"Did. . ." Elrohir lowered his voice impressively, "Did Ada stomp?"

Glorfindel tried to imagine his friend as a tiny elfling. It was surprisingly difficult, for although he could well imagine two and a half feet of quivering half-elven fury, Elrond seldom spoke of his parents or the King who had taken him in when he had no other. And for his part Glorfindel had little wish to stir up unpleasant memories.

"Well he has not spoken of it. But I would presume that he would have stomped with great dignity."

Elrohir giggled gleefully at the image that Glorfindel had conjured up. Glorfindel laughed at the child's delight and took his hand, leading him to the door.

"Do you feel any better now?" Glorfindel paused by the door to his room, leaning against the carved wooden frame.

"A little." Elrohir looked at the floor, his voice suddenly becoming wistful. "It was just I thought. . . I thought that it would be special."

Glorfindel wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders. He was beginning to feel out of his depth.

"You are special Elrohir." Thinking quickly he led the child into his bedroom and rummaged through some drawers until he found a soft leather pouch that had remained undisturbed for nearly ten years. "Here. I have something for you. I had meant to wait until you had grown a little more, but I think that you should have yours now."

Elrohir's eyes grew round as Glorfindel disentangled the two identical objects in the pouch and carefully drew one out and placed it in his palm.

"It. . .it is beautiful." Elrohir gently stroked the gift with his index finger. Strung on a thin silver chain was a pale opal, carved into the shape of an eagle. In the candlelight the stone reflected all the colours of the rainbow when turned.

"It was meant to show that you should never be without a friend. I owe Thorondor and his kin a great kindness." Glorfindel's face looked sad for a moment but then the light in his eyes returned with a mischievous gleam. "In any case I owe you an eagle."

Elrohir gave the blond elf an anxious look but relaxed when Glorfindel ruffled his hair.

"Thank you Glorfindel." Elrohir fumbled to fasten the pendant, smiling as he touched the tiny eagle once more.

"It is my pleasure child. Keep it well." He had had it made prior to the twins' birth, unable to decide on a suitable gift with which to welcome his best friend's firstborn into the world. They had been in his safe keeping until the twins reached their majority, but he felt there was no risk in trusting Elrohir with his now. He was a careful child.

Elrohir skipped over to wrap his arms firmly around Glorfindel's waist. Glorfindel bent down to return the hug, ignoring the sudden painful thought that he would wish for a child of his own. He would wish for a wife of his own. His own family.

"I must get changed for the feast." Glorfindel pulled away regretfully and gave the child a small push towards the door. "So must you."

Elrohir lingered by the open door, fiddling with his hair.

"Ada will be angry." He murmured apprehensively.

"Shall I talk to your Ada?" Glorfindel asked kindly, and was answered with a nod. "Very well, but now I really must change if your Ada is to talk to me at all this evening."

~*~

The Hall of Fire was full of merry, laughing elves. Several of the youngest among them had impulsively taken partners and begun dancing with carefree abandon down the centre of that hall. Even those who would normally disapprove were smiling and laughing tolerantly caught up in the invigorating atmosphere of the occasion.

Celeborn and Erestor were deep in conversation; Erestor a little flushed at having such an important Elf Lord willing to talk to him. He had a habit of agreeing with whatever Celeborn said, making discussion somewhat difficult, but further improving the older elf's mood.

Elrond was sitting in his chair at the end of the hall flanked by his friends and family. Glorfindel was sitting to his left and had made it his business to ensure that his friend joined in the spirit of the occasion. The blond elf refilled goblets with great gusto and grinned as he spoke, his fair face animated by his amusement at his own joke. And it seemed to be working, for the frown lines in his friend's brow had disappeared and the Lord of Imladris was talking and laughing as merrily as any over- stimulated elfling.

Celebrian sat on her husband's right, listening intently to the music and laughing at the dancing younglings. Elrohir, subdued and sleepy after his outburst, was curled up on her lap in a warm and cuddly bundle.

Galadriel watched them all, her pleasure gained more from watching her daughter and family than the entertainment on offer. It amused her to see the sideways glances that her husband gave Glorfindel as he broke into peals of merry laughter at his punch line. Celeborn was still some way from regaining his appreciation of the valiant elf lord.

Only one small figure appeared to be immune from the happiness that enveloped Imladris this midsummer's night. Sitting hunched on the floor by his mother's feet, Elladan's feelings were clearly stated by the downturn of his mouth and the depressed sag of his shoulders. But his mother's lap was already occupied, and the twins felt that they were now too old to crawl uninvited into the arms of their father or any other unsuspecting guest.

It had been a long time since she had cuddled one so young. But she did not feel that she could leave him to sit there, dejected and alone. Quietly she touched his shoulder and indicated that he could come to her should he wish.

The boy was on his feet and climbing into her arms in no time, the sleepy head resting contentedly against his grandmother's body. He was not yet aware of the power that she held or the ring that she wielded, caring only that he was being cuddled. .

The next item he found however brought a chuckle to his lips. Reed pipes. They were Elrohir's and he had solemnly promised to throw them out several thousand years before. And now they had been found carefully hidden behind some books in the least disturbed shelves in the library. He did not know how they had got there.

They were made out of old dried leaves, the fleshy white innards having long dried away from the tough shell, leaving a narrow tube. His youngest son had invented several varieties of pipe, and while to him they had looked like a cobbled mess, Elrohir had insisted that these contraptions blew bigger and better bubbles.

~*~

"But Ammë, I do not want to learn how to dance!" Elladan protested, hands on hips and frowning. "Girls dance!"

Celebrian paused in her embroidery and used the toes of her sandals to slow the gentle rocking of the swinging seat down to a standstill. She had been ready to enjoy a long summer's afternoon in the garden with her sons, but Elladan appeared to have other ideas. Not that she would swap him for the world, but sometimes - just sometimes - she could not help but wish he was a little more like his brother, who was curled up agreeably on the other side of the seat absorbed in a book.

"You must learn the dances for the summer balls." Celebrian insisted. "That is, if you are old enough to attend."

Elladan gave his mother a challenging look. He felt that using the threat of banning from attending was most unfair. Especially since he had no such power to issue an equal counter-threat.

"But. . ."

"Elladan." Celebrian warned. The older twin scowled, but said no more. Once his Amm's eyes grew annoyed like that it was best not to cross her.

Elladan marched off into the shadow of a large bush and plopped himself down onto the ground, hugging his knees and resting his forehead on his crossed forearms. It was true that he had enjoyed learning a few steps when he was younger, but this formal dancing for balls was different. None of the other boys his age would be attending the balls, so none of the other boys his age would be spending their afternoons dancing. And if anyone found out that he spent his afternoons skipping around the gardens holding hands, the taunts and teasing he already received would only worsen.

"I think the dancing looks fun!" Elrohir finished his chapter and obediently shut his book, looking up with a smile.

Elladan scowled at him, wondering if his brother behaved so angelically purely to annoy him. It was true that the times that they had sneaked out of bed to peep at the balls, everyone had seemed to be having a lot of fun. It would just not be as much fun as chopping, slicing or shooting something.

"It is fun Elrohir. I love balls, your father and I. . ." Celebrian paused in her reminiscing to turn to the uncompromising figure of her son. "There Elladan. Glorfindel dances and so does your father."

Maintaining his silence, Elladan trawled his fingers through the dirt, twigs and dead leaves he found under the bush. Neither Glorfindel nor his father then had to have training with other boys who would delight in the knowledge that, like their own sisters, the twin sons of Elrond had spent their free time in dancing class.

"Come Elladan!" Celebrian said in a no nonsense voice, holding out a hand as she got to her feet. "It is not so bad."

Elladan reluctantly trudged across the lawn to join his mother and brother. Whatever his mother may think it was so bad.

~*~

When Elrond and the guests from Lorien strolled down to the gardens a few hours later, Celebrian was hitching up her skirts with her hands as she demonstrated some elaborate footwork that Elrond recognised from a dance of the Wood Elves. The twins were watching closely, with Elladan doing his best to keep a disinterested expression.

"Now you try!" Celebrian stepped back with a smile, tucking a loose curl back behind her ear.

With a doubtful look at each other the twins began imitating the skipping, slowly at first but gathering speed as they increased in confidence.

Smiling, Galadriel began clapping in time to the imaginary music, and soon Celebrian and Elrond joined in. Rather breathless from the activity, Elladan looked up to grin at her. However this distraction caused him to stumble over his feet, and with a desperate grab at Elrohir to retain his balance, both elflings came tumbling to the floor.

Elrond cemented his role as 'bad father' by failing miserably to contain his amusement and laughing loudly. This earned him reproachful glares from the tangled heap of elfling on the ground, and a look from Celebrian that was sufficiently like her mother to cause the Lord of Imladris to choke his laughter to a sudden halt.

"He is not the most co-ordinated of elflings." Celeborn observed calmly, ignoring the pain that had shot through him when the boy had tumbled in exactly the same manner as his own daughter had when learning this dance. "That would account for his difficulty with the bow. He will never be a soldier Elrond."

Elrond gritted his teeth and hastily tried to quieten his father-in-law, or at least place himself between the grandfather and grandson before Celeborn saw the hideous face that Elladan had pulled. Not that he blamed him, he felt like giving the Lord of the Galadhrim a hefty slap himself.

"Ammë, may we go and play now please?" Elrohir asked quickly, recognising from his brother's rapidly deepening scowl that if they did not leave soon Elladan would yet again land in big trouble. "You will wish to talk to Galadriel and Celeborn."

Celebrian agreed quickly, noticing that Elladan was eyeing her father's shins with an expression that definitely did not bode well for peace.

~*~

The twins ran together through the long grasses of the meadows down to the smallest of the tributary rivers - incidentally also the largest river that the elflings were allowed to play in unsupervised. The tall seed heads of the longer grasses tickled their legs as they ran, and occasionally they would halt to pick a particularly pretty wildflower for a bouquet for their mother.

"Elrohir!" One of the younger twin's friends from training ran up, barefoot over the lush grass that grew on the riverbanks. Elrohir immediately began waving and scampered over to join his friend, leaving Elladan alone.

The elder twin scowled after the departing pair. He always played with Elrohir and this was not fair - especially as he had few friends of his own to go and play with - the other boys in his training group did not appreciate being habitually beaten by one of the smallest there. Still, at least he would not have to play the quiet boring games that Elrohir and the other boy favoured. Grabbing at a large rock and kicking off his moccasins, Elladan splashed over to join a group that was attempting to dam the river into a bathing pool.

The river was a glorious place to play on sunny afternoons. In this region where it wound its lazy path through the meadows the riverbed was smooth and shingle covered, and the water ran at a depth perfect for paddling but too shallow to pose any real danger - even to non-swimmers.

Crayfish and tiny minnows could be found in the cool water, and it was a favoured game to try and catch some of these - but quick though the elflings were, they rarely managed to succeed. Larger rocks and boulders swept down from the mountains in the winter storms provided seats and stepping stones, and among the smaller rocks, dam-building material.

Thick green reeds and rushes grew along some regions of the bank. It was here that Elrohir and his friend were lying, resting as their stomachs as they peered down into the clear water, watching the wary movements of the fish. Each had broken off an old brown dried reed, and dipping one end in the water, were now blowing bubbles down the hollow tube.

This was the first summer that Elrohir had played with another to any degree, and with the sun warm on the back of his legs, he could not help but feel it was nicer to spend time with someone else who preferred more peaceful games than constantly being dragged into the roughest, fastest and nosiest group.

~*~

"Dancing? Ha! Did you just say that you had been dancing?" The loud and scornful voice disturbed Elladan from his play, and he looked up to find one of the largest boys standing over the spot where Elrohir and his friend were lying, still blowing bubbles.

The older twin frowned. He knew the boy from training, at least well enough to have developed a strong dislike for his bullying tendencies, and did not think that this would be the last he heard of this. Anxiously Elladan began hopping over the tussocks of grass, where he had been searching for sticks, to the river.

"Yes. We learnt a special dance from the Woodland Realm." Elrohir scrambled to his feet, unfamiliar as yet with the nature of this elfling. "Would you like me to show it to you?"

A few of the elflings showed interest in this, but Elrohir's opponent was less amused, and the friendly offer was met with a punch in the nose. Elrohir stumbled to the floor, his eyes filling with tears. Naturally friendly and peaceful, the younger twin could not understand what could cause such a response.

"Leave him alone!" Elladan raced to his brother's side, bare feet placed sturdily apart on the grassy banks, and his fists clenched.

The larger elfling sneered at him, but still backed off a little. One twin was easily manageable, but two?

"Why?" Dark eyes looked scornfully at Elrohir who was hunched up over his grazed knee, trying not to cry. "Do you wish to dance with him? I suppose you are his dancing partner."

Elladan was about to vehemently deny that he danced, had ever danced or would ever dance in the future when Elrohir spoke up.

"Of course he is." The younger twin clambered to his feet and adopted a similarly aggressive pose beside his brother. "Who else would be?"

Elladan scowled at his brother as their opponent began laughing.

"Why I bet even my sister could beat you!" The boy called over a girl a couple of years his junior from the patch, a few hundred yards upstream, where the female elflings played - away from their smelly, splashing brothers.

The twins greeted the newcomer with identical scowls.

"Of course I can beat him." The girl narrowed her eyes dangerously at her brother. "A girl can always beat a boy."

The brother looked less than pleased with this comment.

"I can push you in. . ." The tiny elf-maiden explained, giving Elrohir a vigorous shove that sent him over the edge of the riverbank, ". . . and you can do nothing. Because I am a girl."

Elladan stared at the smirking girl, and then turned to his bedraggled brother.

"No. Ada told us that we should never harm a lady." Elladan ploughed into the girl with his shoulder, sending her tumbling into the water with a shriek. "You are not a lady - you are a she-elf!"

There was sudden silence among the elflings that had gathered in a crowd around them on the banks. Elladan waited only to help his brother back onto the bank before he began dragging his brother back up the meadow before anyone could start in pursuit.

"Come Elrohir. Let us find someone else to play with!" The elder twin called loudly as they began walking away, their knees stiff in their haste.

"Elladan." Elrohir hissed in annoyance as his brother dragged him away. "Ada will be so angry!"

Elrond was not going to be happy. Not very happy at all.

Elladan bit his lip and continued marching steadily through the tickling stalks of the long grasses. He did not regret his actions for a second, but maybe he should have held his tongue. He did not even know what the word meant exactly, but some of the older elflings had looked shocked.

"It is always you! You always get us into trouble, and it is always me who has to stop you!"

"Well you should fight back!" Elladan retorted angrily. "Why did you not hit him?"

"I did not wish to." Elrohir flushed as his brother gave a sigh that questioned his manliness, then perked up with "Ada said that it is better to do battle with words not fists!"

Elladan gave an exasperated sigh. "He was not going to listen to words Elrohir."

"He might have." Elrohir said placidly before spinning round to face his brother, his eyes gleaming. "You did not have to fight for me! I could defend myself!"

Elladan scowled magnificently.

"I will not let them hurt you. I will never let them hurt you."

Both twins proceeded up the field in silence, each reflecting inwardly that their duty in Middle Earth appeared to be protecting their mirror image. At the same moment each shot the other an identical despairing look. Why could Elrohir not see that he had to stand up to the older boys who would prey on his small size? And why should Elladan be blessed with so few manners and even less of an idea of how to use them?

~*~

Galadriel wandered quietly through the cool shadows of the glades, step in step with her husband who she had insisted accompanied her. When talking to her husband about a topic he did not wish to discuss, it was wise to choose a spot with no escape routes.

"The twins are quite delightful." Galadriel lowered her eyes into an appraising glance. "Elrohir adores you."

Celeborn looked pleased in spite of himself.

"Elrohir is a good little boy."

"But Elladan is not?" The Lady of Lorien carefully kept her tone to one of amused curiosity.

"I believe your memory is as good as mine." Celeborn smiled at his wife as he remembered some of the tales they had been told about the twins' escapades. "He is so noisy and determined and wilful."

"He is so like his mother at that age." Galadriel added carelessly, pretending to be absorbed in a loose pearl on the hem of her gown.

Celeborn froze and took a few seconds to recover.

"Well yes, now you mention it I suppose he is." Celeborn feigned casualness. "Perhaps Elrohir is more like his father as a child."

Galadriel sighed at the impossibilities of getting her husband to speak about what bothered him most, and brushed an invisible twig from his hair. As she turned to leave she added a warning.

"You are hurting him Celeborn."

~*~

Once again he was back in the study. Back in trouble. A cold shiver ran down his back as he remembered Elrohir's voice, so like his own. "Ammë and Ada love me best anyway! They said that you were a difficult boy." And now he would be called difficult again.

"Ammë. Ada." Elladan greeted his parents a little apprehensively before turning to the benches among the bookshelves where Erestor and Glorfindel were hard at work, wondering if he should greet them too.

"Elladan." His father's voice sounded unusually grave, and when he looked up, Elladan found that both his parents did not look particularly angry. More sad and disappointed - ashamed of him.

"A. . . Ada?" Elladan squirmed under the cold gaze that was levelled at him. Uncomfortably he turned to his mother, hoping for a response that was a little less chilling but met with no sympathetic smile there either.

"You attacked a young maiden this afternoon Elladan?" Elrond's left eyebrow quirked up inquisitively.

Elladan stood dumbfounded. It had not been an attack - but a push - and in any case she had started it.

"I. . . I . . ."

"Did you not understand me when I told you that a civilised elf never insults or harms a lady." Elrond began in a tone that was a particularly frigid shade of icy, but by the end of the sentence was booming 'never' at his child. Erestor and Glorfindel's heads dropped closer to their pages.

"But Ada." Elladan spoke quickly, not thinking how his words may sound. "She was not a lady! She pushed Elrohir and she was not so pretty anyway. She had freckles and nasty scraggy hair - she looked more like an orc!"

"Elladan!" Elrond snapped. For a brief second Elladan was afraid that he would get up and come and shake him, but Celebrian placed her hand on his arm and he calmed down.

"Sorry Ada." Elladan muttered, rubbing at a knot in the wood of the floor with the toe of his moccasin.

"You will never ever speak to or of a maiden in such a manner again, do you understand." Elladan began to feel that his father's rage, narrowly contained by his icy manner, was far more frightening than Glorfindel's outright fury.

"Yes Ada."

"But where did you learn such language Elladan?" Celebrian asked, her fair voice marred by disappointment and disgust. "Have you ever heard I or your father use such words?"

"I. . . it was just a word I heard Glorfindel use in the barracks." Elladan muttered, not meeting his parents' eyes. "It was in a joke and it must have been funny, for they all laughed."

Three pairs of eyes turned accusingly at the blond elf, who had the grace to blush. Erestor wondered how the Lord of Imladris could entrust his sons in his care when he was so obviously a bad influence upon the pair of them.

"Never use it again. Ever!" Elrond turned back to his son, leaving Glorfindel to slip extremely quietly and extremely rapidly out of the room.

"Yes Ada."

"You will apologise to the girl, and you may ask Glorfindel for extra Quenya every night from now until Midwinter."

Elladan scowled viciously at his father.

"Very well Ada."

~*~

The two elflings stood opposite each other, sulky grey stare matched by angry hazel glare. Their parents had drifted off to talk - or rather for Elrond and Celebrian to repeat their apologies - leaving Elladan free to make his excuses.

Elladan fidgeted, looked at the floor and then up into the hazel eyes, and took a deep breath.

"I am sorry for pushing you into the water. And I am truly sorry for calling you a she-elf for I did not know what it meant." The twin lowered his voice into a hiss. "But I am not sorry for saying that you are not a lady. You shall never be a lady."

The hazel eyes narrowed.

"Then I shall accept your apology Elladan Half-Elf" At her tone Elladan wondered if half-elf was meant to be an insult, then dismissed the idea as ridiculous. "And I would not want to be called a lady by you. You would not know a lady!"

~*~

The family swept back through the halls of Imladris in stony silence. Elladan glanced apprehensively from his mother's flushed cheeks to his father's icy glare before speaking up.

"Ada, may I go to archery? For I did promise Glorfindel I would be there."

Elrond looked down at his son and sighed.

"Then go Elladan. For I have no desire to look at you."

The Lord and Lady of Imladris continued down the hallway, leaving their son standing alone, stock-still, for a quite a while afterwards.

~*~

It was drawing into evening now, the sky turning richer shades of blue and the cool breeze that ran through the valley more noticeable now. Un-fooled by Glorfindel's apparent lack of attention, Elladan fitted another arrow and drew back the bowstring, careful to meet the blond elf's standard of perfection. A few seconds later the projectile hit the target, clean on centre.

"Very good Elladan!" Glorfindel stirred from where he had been apparently asleep against the tree and stretched. "Are you not pleased?"

For even this achievement had failed to raise a smile on the boy's pale face.

"Oh yes. Yes I am." Elladan nodded as he made his assurances in a gabble.

But there was something wrong.

"Come here Elladan!" Glorfindel beckoned the boy over, and once he arrived, cuddled him against his side. "You are not happy tonight."

Elladan looked at him darkly and kicked his heels against the ground. Now Glorfindel was going to scold him too. Did they not think that he had already grasped that he had done wrong!

"Your Ammë and Ada have a right to be angry. You have shamed them greatly." The blond elf tapped Elladan's chin as he opened his mouth to protest. "When you behave in that way people think that they have not taught you well."

"Oh." Elladan went red and shuffled uncomfortably. This took him out from Glorfindel's arm and he quickly scooted away from the older elf.

The blond elf raised his eyebrows at this, but recognising the boy's familiar hunched thinking posture, said nothing.

"Glorfy," Elladan ventured once the shadows had grown a little longer, "Am I evil?"

Glorfindel began laughing.

"Good gracious no child! What gave you that idea?"

Elladan gave him an affronted look.

"Nothing."

Swallowing back his laughter, Glorfindel scooted the child back towards him and scooped him onto his lap for a cuddle.

"So you did not look in the mirror and see a little orcling peeping out?" The blond elf made the child laugh before lowering his voice to ask "Are you sure it was nothing Elladan?"

Elladan turned to bury his face against Glorfindel's tunic.

"I always do wrong. It is always me. Everyone says so!" He took a long shuddering breath and began again in a wobbly voice which rapidly degraded into tears. "Elrohir said that Ada and Ammë said that I was difficult. And then Ada said that he did not wish to even see me. And. . . and. . . I do not think they love me very much Glorfindel."

Since this effectively silenced Glorfindel, he did little but murmur reassurances and rock the child gently until the tears stopped. By which time many of his archers had arrived, and he was drawing several interested stares.

Elladan took one last sniff, which made Glorfindel wish he had a handkerchief, as otherwise he feared his cloak would be appropriated during the course of the evening, and scrambled to his feet. The pair walked together to the customary spot under the trees, where the blond elf hurriedly settled Elladan.

"Glorfy," An anxious voice called after him as he turned back to the field, "Did I make Ada cross with you?"

Elladan looked so woebegone at this prospect that Glorfindel chuckled.

"Not so very. Although I suspect that we might have words later this evening."

And he needed to have words with his friend himself. For he had ended up in way beyond his depth.

~*~

The House of Elrond was now in the shadow of darkness, even the lights in the Hall of Fire had been dimmed and the flames had died down. Only the library windows still glowed with the warm light.

Inside, working at one of the long benches by the light of the lantern at his side, Celeborn was reading an account from an ancient script. A thick muggy silence filled the air on this warm night, disturbed only by the periodic rustle of paper as a page was turned.

"Celeborn. May I talk to you?" Elrohir tiptoed across the room, his question a barely audible whisper.

The Lord of Lorien turned to him, looking a little annoyed, but his expression softened when he discovered the identity of the disruption.

"Of course." He drew out a chair which Elrohir happily scrambled onto, letting his legs swing to-and-fro. "But it is very late Elrohir. Be quick."

He was unsure of what time the twins normally retired in the evenings, but based on the fact that Elrohir was clad in only his nightshirt, he assumed it was well past his bedtime.

"I think I might be a boring person." Elrohir announced, watching his grandfather carefully.

"Why you are not boring. You are neat and quiet and sensible," Celeborn patted his grandson's head, "You a very nice person to be around."

"But Celeborn, that is what makes me boring!" Elrohir wailed loudly enough to make Celeborn consider clapping his hand over the small mouth to avoid bringing the guards in. "I never do anything brave or exciting or adventurous. People never pick me first for teams, and Elladan is better than me at everything!"

"Not everything. . ." Celeborn began to point out the younger twin's prowess at anything and everything involving a quill or books.

"Everything that is not boring anyway!"

"What about archery?" Celeborn attempted, and smiled as Elrohir began to beam. "You are as good a little archer as I have ever seen!"

"I really like archery." Elrohir said proudly, his head rising as he began to feel less useless.

"Tell me, if and only if your Ada and Ammë agree, do you think it would make you feel any less boring if we went for a little hunting trip?" Celeborn watched as Elrohir's eyes began sparkling so intensely that he wondered if one of Mithrandir's fireworks had gone off inside the child. "Just you and me."

"You would do that. Just for me?" Elrohir's mouth hung open.

"Yes. For I find you most interesting."

Celeborn was spectacularly winded by a speciality of the twins' greetings repertoire - the flying hug.

The ships did not even belong to the twins. Not these twins anyway.

Most were of a size to fit comfortably into a child's hand, and were carved painstakingly out of wood. The cloth that had been fitted into sails was yellowed with age now, and the paint and varnish were thin and chipped. It had been long since they had seen the sea, but when examined closely one could still smell the salt or find the odd grain of sand from a beach far away.

~*~

Elrohir blinked his eyes open and sat up in the bed, the light sheet that he slept under during the summer months slipping down his body. As he knelt on his bed to peer out of the window, a huge grin slipped slowly over his face. Today it was fine, and today he would be going hunting with his grandfather. Today he was special!

The small noises he made disturbed his brother, and soon he too was sitting up and rubbing his sleepy eyes. He greeted his brother with his normal sleepy grin, then adopted a frosty glare as he remembered the happenings of the day.

He had been sure at first that his Ada would refuse his brother's plea. They had pestered many a time to be allowed to go hunting with Glorfindel and each time they had been denied. It should have been no different this time. And he had been glad for it. If he could not go, then neither should Elrohir.

But this time it had been Celeborn who asked, and they had both watched him talking with their father and casting frequent glances in their direction. Both twins had pretended to be playing with their soldiers, using ash from the grate to recreate Mount Doom on the sitting room floor, but their thoughts were elsewhere. Elrohir had wished with all his might that he would get a positive response, and Elladan had wished equally hard that he would not.

But then unexpectedly - and in Elladan's opinion traitorously - their father had agreed to the plan. And after a few moments so had their mother. He had played for a while longer, listening to his brother's excited chatter, waiting for somebody to say that he could come too. But it had not happened.

Then he had tried asking and pleading and finally shouting and screaming, but none of it had made any difference. Elrohir was going and he was not.

Elladan made his scowl even more threatening and set about using all the hot water. Elrohir's smile faded, and he scuttled around the room collecting his things, trying to avoid unleashing his brother's wrath.

~*~

"Celeborn!" Elrohir yelled happily, scampering the length of the hallway in his socks to hug his grandfather. "The day is fine! We shall go!"

Celeborn looked around awkwardly, then stroked the dark head that had come to rest against his thigh.

"Aye, it is fine." There were no clouds to be seen and storms were not predicted for several weeks. He could not have picked a better time for the trip. "Are you all ready?"

"Oh yes." Elrohir said solemnly. "I have packed everything."

Celeborn glanced over the child's head at the bulky pack that had been abandoned in the middle of the floor. Maybe after breakfast they would be able to cut everything down to everything necessary.

"Very good." Celeborn turned the over-excited child towards the dining room. "Now we must eat big breakfasts so that we do not get hungry all day. Do you think that you can do that?"

Elrohir nodded, licking his lips, so that both grandfather and grandson burst out laughing. Neither noticed Elladan stalking past, his head raised arrogantly high.

~*~

Once breakfast was over and Elrohir had repacked, the family gathered at the stables to bid the adventurers goodbye. Elladan had, against his wishes, been pressed into coming too. Everyone was fussing around his brother, hugging him and kissing him. Even Glorfindel had lifted him onto his pony, and was relaying a tale of the first time he had gone out hunting.

Nobody cared that he was there. Glorfindel should be telling him the story too - he was more his friend than Elrohir's. Grumpily Elladan kicked at a loose stone, sending it flying into the tufty grass that bordered the courtyard and stubbing his toe badly. Blinking back angry tears, Elladan limped unnoticed into the stables and hid in the far stall.

He and Elrohir had spent much time here over the summer, jumping from the beams into piles of hay and offering to 'help' with the feeding and watering of the horses. But they had lingered in this stall longer than any other, sitting on the rough wood of the divisions and talking as they munched on apples or just watching the mare that was putting up with their company.

She was not the most beautiful of all the horses in Imladris, but she was due to give birth any day now, and both twins were eager to see the tiny foal. In fact they had secretly planned to be there at the birth, if they could find some way of sneaking out from whatever they were supposed to be doing.

Probably Elrohir would not want to plan the scheme together anymore. Celeborn would probably take him. It was so unfair.

"There you are!" Glorfindel said merrily, striding through the stables to where Elladan was crouched. "If you wander off like that, you might miss seeing your brother off."

Elladan scowled at the blond elf as he got to his feet.

"It was not an accident. I was hiding." Elladan picked a bit of straw off his tunic and threw it at Glorfindel.

Glorfindel grinned and then adopted a serious expression.

"I know." He knelt down to face Elladan. "You could make your brother a lot happier if he didn't think you were angry with him. You will spoil his trip."

"Good." Elladan said viciously, looking at the floor.

"Elladan." Glorfindel warned.

Elladan hunched his shoulders and wrinkled his nose, and walked out quickly, ahead of Glorfindel. He didn't want to make Elrohir unhappy. He didn't. It was just that he should be going too. He was just as special as Elrohir. More special even!

Standing unwillingly by his mother, Elladan glared at his grandfather, who was dressed in the shadowy grey riding clothes of Lorien. Glorfindel came to stand at Elladan's side, and looking up, the child was surprised to see him wince as if recalling some painful memory, as Celeborn's eyes passed frostily over him.

"Are you ready, Elrohir?" Celeborn asked as he mounted his horse.

With a last woeful look at Elladan, Elrohir nodded sadly.

"Go on," Glorfindel gave Elladan a little shove, "Say goodbye."

Elladan stumbled forward, then walked unwillingly over to his brother. All he had to do was be nice. Surely he could do that.

"Have a good time." He said woodenly, aware that everyone's eyes was upon him. Elrohir beamed. The audience smiled - of course they would, they all liked Elrohir best. Bending forwards he hissed, "I hope you fall from your horse and get trampled into pulp!"

Keeping his menacing look for his twin only, Elladan approximated a smile and strolled nonchalantly back to his place, and joined his family in waving merrily at the departing hunters.

"Well done, Elladan." Glorfindel clapped a hand onto his shoulder. "I am proud of you."

~*~

Elrohir managed to blink back his tears as they left the courtyard and he followed Celeborn over the bridge and along the trail. They were not going far, barely beyond the borders of Imladris and definitely not out of reach of the border guards. But it was further than either twin had ever travelled before, and a few minutes ago he had been wildly excited about the prospect.

Now he just wanted to curl up somewhere and hide.

A tear rolled down his cheek in a warm streak, before he could stop it, and others soon followed. Before long the tears were coming so fast that he could barely see where he was going, and it was getting harder and harder to avoid sobbing. But he could not let Celeborn see, for then they would probably go home, or worse his grandfather would think that he was too childish to go hunting.

Blinded by tears, Elrohir did not notice how close he was getting to his grandfather's horse until his pony bumped into the larger animal.

"Elrohir, be careful!" Celeborn warned, rather more snappishly that the child was accustomed to.

His grandfather's anger proved to be the final straw, and Elrohir was soon in floods of tears and sobbing loudly. Making clicking noises with his tongue, Celeborn took his grandson's reins, halted both horses and dismounted.

"What is wrong, Elrohir?" Celeborn awkwardly rubbed the hunched back, trying to wish away the tears by power of thought.

"I am so sorry." Elrohir sniffed, then resumed crying.

"Sorry for what?" Celeborn asked perplexed, brushing away tears from Elrohir's flushed cheeks with his fingers.

Elrohir wailed something, and to Celeborn's pure horror, climbed into his arms and buried his face into his shoulder.

The older elf froze, then began stiffly patting the child's back, hoping his clicking would count as a reassuring comment.

"What bothers you Elrohir?" Celeborn asked in a voice that so clearly expected to be answered that Elrohir immediately blurted out his troubles.

"Elladan hates me! He. . . he said that he wished me to turn into pulp."

"He did?" Celeborn tried hard to think of a context in which the comment made sense.

Elrohir nodded, his head brushing against the grey fabric of his grandfather's tunic.

"He wants me to die." The sobs increased in intensity.

"There now, I'm sure he did not mean it." Celeborn stroked the dark hair that the child had inherited from his son-in-law. "Why, I am sure I remember saying far worse things to my brother."

Elrohir sat back and blinked, looking into his grandfather's face.

"You had a brother?"

"Yes, his name is Galathil." Celeborn closed his eyes for a moment to picture a cheeky elfling with silver hair and scabbed knees. "He was very. . . demanding. . . when he was your age."

"Did you like him?" Elrohir asked eagerly.

"Well, he was not my twin, so I was quite a bit older than him." Celeborn mused. "In truth I found him rather annoying, at least at first. But yes, I love him very much."

Elrohir surveyed his grandfather's face, biting his lip as he thought.

"Do you think that Elladan will love me, later?"

Celeborn thought for a moment of the child's brother, small and stubborn, usually gifting him with dark looks or glares. Then he thought of the other times. Such as when the boy had snatched the breadbasket from under his fingers to ensure that his younger brother got a roll. Or when he had seen the twins involved in some sort of conflict with the other boys on the path up to the house, and Elladan had stepped in front of his brother.

"I think he already loves you. He loves you very much."

~*~

Elladan had not felt proud of himself at the time, and he felt even less proud of himself now. He had seen his brother's chin begin to wobble and the happy colour in his cheeks fade. And then Glorfindel had been so nice.

He was a liar.

As soon as Elrohir's horse had left the courtyard and disappeared from view, he had shaken free from Glorfindel's grasp and shot off, sprinting along the paths and up the steps to the lower gardens. Eventually he collapsed in the leafy hollow by the oak tree, red in the face and gasping for breath.

He had stayed there since then, ignoring his father's calls. He did not want to hear how nice or how good he had been. He really was evil and nobody knew it but himself.

~*~

Elladan slid along the wall outside Glorfindel's study and peeped inside. It was shady inside and the stone of the wall was cool against his hot and sticky skin, making him feel a little better.

Glorfindel was there sitting at his desk and carefully writing some document, his free arm was resting on the desk, curled around the sheet of parchment, and his hair hung loose over his shoulders. The desk was covered in papers and maps, their corners weighted down with ink bottles and blotters, and was far messier than he allowed the twins to keep their own desks.

The windows had been thrown open to their fullest extent, Elladan noticed gladly, for the breeze cooled his flaming face. He silently approached the desk and waited a while before deciding that maybe he did not want to speak to Glorfindel after all. Maybe it was better to have everyone think he was nice and love him, even if it was for a lie. Caught in his indecision, he was about to slip out unnoticed when Glorfindel spoke.

"Since you have come all this way, you may as well speak before you leave."

Elladan stopped and wriggled uncomfortably, as if someone had dropped ants down the back of his tunic.

"Um."

Glorfindel turned round in his chair to face Elladan, brushing his hair away from his face as he surveyed the child.

It was one of those sweltering summer days that left everything hot and sticky, even in the sparse shade. Even in Elladan's hideout it had been stifling, and his clothing was rumpled and dusty. His skin was an unnatural shade of pink and was covered by a sheen of sweat, and his hair was tangled and stuck to the back of his neck. He kept swallowing, whether to summon courage or hold back tears Glorfindel did not know, but he clearly was distressed.

"Would you like a drink?" Glorfindel elbowed aside some papers and poured a glass of something cold and fruity.

Elladan hesitated, wondering if he should just say what he had come to say and leave before the blond elf became too angry, but the prospect of a drink became too tempting. In any case he did not know when he would next get the chance.

"Thank you." Elladan accepted the glass, finding it pleasantly cool in his sweaty hand.

"Why don't we sit by the window." Glorfindel suggested and put his hand on Elladan's back to guide him to the seat. "It will be cooler there."

Elladan looked up at him, and finding that he looked quite calm and understanding, took a seat, still clutching his glass.

"I. . ." He began, only to be interrupted by Erestor entering the room.

The young advisor glanced briefly up from his papers to note that Glorfindel was not entertaining anyone of importance before launching into a speech about messages from Lorien and the oat fields.

Glorfindel muttered something, brushed Elladan's scalding cheek with two cool fingers and turned to Erestor with a look that spoke of annoyance. The child would not have sought him out without reason, and by the time Erestor had finished, he would probably have lost his nerve.

Erestor continued without pause, and observing him, Elladan felt a sudden surge of dislike. Erestor was no fun. He never played games or made jokes, and even on a day like this was wearing heavy formal gowns. He did not want to be a bit like Erestor when he grew up. He wanted to be like Glorfindel and slay Balrogs and lead armies. Except people like Glorfindel were honest and kind. Glorfindel would never have said anything so foul to his brother.

He could not tell Glorfindel this. He would think so badly of him, and he wanted so badly for his mentor to be proud of him.

Elladan set down his glass on the window ledge and Glorfindel automatically reached to put it in a safer position. By the time he turned back to the boy, Elladan had slipped down off the seat and was halfway to the door.

The blond elf made an irritated hissing noise and ran his hand angrily through his hair. Startled by the glare that was suddenly cast upon him, Erestor dried up in mid flow, and jumped back with a wounded expression.

"No, carry on." Glorfindel shook his head, and tried to turn his attention to his fellow advisor. He would just have to find the boy later.

~*~

Elrohir grinned to himself as he trotted after his grandfather. They were out of the trees now and making their way along a steep mountain track. It was narrow and stony, difficult enough a ride to be exciting for Elrohir without putting him at any real risk.

A hawk was circling above them, the glorious sunshine kept him warm despite the wind, and Elrohir began to feel as if everything was right in the world. Even the sky was a clear perfect blue.

"Elrohir!" Celeborn called behind him, drawing his horse to a halt. "Let us stop here. It is past midday and the horses need rest."

Still smiling, Elrohir followed his grandfather onto a grassy plateau, and dismounted elegantly enough to please himself. The pony was still a little large for him, making getting on and off rather difficult.

"Are you hungry?" Celeborn unbuckled a leather pack and began pulling out items of food and a flask.

Elrohir nodded happily then added "But I am very thirsty."

"Here." Celeborn sat down on a large flat granite boulder and handed Elrohir the flask, first loosening the top so that the child would be able to open it.

"Thank you." Elrohir took a few swigs before handing it back and wiping off the water that had dribbled down his chin.

They shared the ample meal between them, then since it was still too hot an afternoon to ride, Celeborn offered to tell Elrohir a tale of Doriath and was rather embarrassed by the eagerness with which the child received that suggestion. What kind of grandfather was he anyway if he had never before thought to relate stories of his childhood to the boy?

Elrohir rested his head comfortably against his grandfather's side, and let the deep voice tell him tales of mines and mountains and little boys who would try and cross waterfalls on unsteady logs. The rock was nice and warm beneath him, and he could just about hear the buzzing of the bees as they moved from sprig to sprig of the heather which blanketed the mountain.

His eyelids began to feel increasingly heavy, and Celeborn's cloak increasingly comfy, and when his grandfather next looked down, he was making up for his uneasy night by sleeping soundly, his head in Celeborn's lap.

~*~

"Glorfindel?" Elladan queried, standing at the base of the tree and peering up into the branches. He could not see the golden-haired elf, but he knew that he was there, for he had often noticed that the blond elf would wander over here and disappear somewhere among the undergrowth. Usually when Glorfindel was reading and together with Elrohir, he was pestering him for a game.

Glorfindel stretched, tucked the book he had been reading in the cleft of a branch joining the trunk, and dropped lightly to the ground.

"Oh!" Elladan spun round to face the blond elf who had suddenly appeared behind him. "I was looking for you."

Glorfindel raised his pale brows.

"Really? I was thinking of looking for you."

Elladan beamed proudly at this, so Glorfindel continued.

"Why do we not take a walk?"

Elladan nodded and tucked his hand into Glorfindel's larger one. He needed any comfort that he could get. The blond elf smiled down at the child.

"Along the river?" Glorfindel stared down through the trees. It would be cooler down by the water, although if they climbed up the slope to the mountain top there might be some wind.

"Ooo, yes!" Elladan said enthusiastically, although there was still a troubled look in his eyes. He loved the river, especially where it flowed fastest and gushed white around boulders and rapids.

Since time was limited, the pair abandoned the usual path and set to scrambling and slipping down through the forest. It was cooler under the trees, and the air was full of the warm slightly nutty smell of sunshine on bark, the brown drying leaves scattered on the forest floor and sticky tree sap. It was so calm and peaceful that Elladan began to feel a little better, and skipped and jumped across logs and small streams with almost his usual exuberance.

It was only when the slope became shallower as they reached the valley floor that the pair slowed, and once again resumed walking side by side.

"Something bothers you, Elladan." Glorfindel commented, raising his eyebrows a little. The child had found a large and very satisfying stick, and seemed intent on clunking it as hard as he could manage against every tree trunk they passed.

"No." Elladan swiped angrily at a patch of primroses, causing the plant to be destroyed in a flurry of petals and leaves.

Glorfindel nudged some battered pale yellow petals with his foot and raised his eyebrows.

"Elladan." His voice was still calm and patient, but held a warning that this patience would not be ever lasting.

Elladan gave him a grumpy look, then suddenly sat down, casting his stick down beside him. Smiling now, Glorfindel followed suit, placing an arm around the boy's narrow shoulders.

"Glorfindel," Elladan took a deep breath and began talking very fast, "I was mean to Elrohir. I told him that I wished he would get squashed into jelly. I was not nice at all."

He glanced up quickly at Glorfindel's impassive face and grimaced.

"You should not be proud of me. Not at all." Elladan muttered, rubbing his shoe back and forth in the groove of dirt that he had created.

Glorfindel surveyed him for a moment, then ruffled the tangled hair.

"I did know, Elladan. I was proud of you for trying."

~*~

"Lady Galadriel." Elrond called, as he hastened across the grass after the pale figure who appeared to be gliding, so smooth was her step.

"My Lord Elrond." Galadriel turned to face her host and dipped her head slightly in greeting. "Does my daughter seek me?"

Elrond shook his head. As far as he knew, Celebrian had gone to spend the morning swimming with several of her friends, and she had not yet returned.

"I wished to speak to you." Elrond slipped an arm through Galadriel's. "Shall we walk?"

Galadriel smiled her acquiescence and they set off down one of the shaded paths in Elrond's private gardens.

After a while of talking about such matters as the boys, how fond Celebrian was of her rose garden and Glorfindel's leadership of the Imladris Guard, the conversation turned to the upcoming council.

"And you believe that Lord Cirdan will come?"

"He should. I have had word of his coming." Elrond sighed for the peculiarities of the prickly sea elf. "He does not like leaving the Havens."

"More so now, I fear." Galadriel looked hard at Elrond as she spoke.

"He misses Gil-galad badly." Elrond said vaguely, looking straight ahead. "I believe he only travelled to meet him."

"We all do." Galadriel tightened her grip about his arm for a moment. Cirdan was not the only high elf to be badly shaken by Gil-galad's passing.

They walked in silence for a while, then Elrond looked around surreptitiously and spoke very quietly.

"I believe that Cirdan has forsaken Narya."

Galadriel stopped suddenly, and turned to Elrond, her face full of surprise and doubt. Her mouth moved mutely as she tried to find words.

"No. It is madness." Galadriel looked desperately at Elrond for some expression of doubt on his part. "He would not have forsaken his people."

"Word has come of changes in the Havens. There are often now storms on their shores. The harvest is no longer as bountiful."

Galadriel took a wary intake of breath.

"He could not." She whispered, then continued more audibly. "He would not. It is madness. He cannot hold the Havens alone."

Elrond gave her a look that said that he agreed with her. He doubted his ability to hold his realm without the aid of Vilya. It was strange that such a little thing could make so large a difference.

"He held the Havens throughout the First Age, without any such power."

Galadriel said nothing, her eyes staring off into a distance that was not there.

"I wonder." She whispered at last, almost as if she had forgotten that Elrond still stood beside her. "I wonder where Narya now resides."

Elrond stared at her in confusion. Surely she did not mean what she seemed to imply.

"It would not be wise, Galadriel, for any one of us to wield more than one of the Three."

Galadriel stared at him distrustfully.

"I wonder." She mused, eyeing Elrond's hands. "Who would he have chosen to bear a Ring of Power? Not Thranduil, I think. Nor Celeborn, or I would have come to hear of it."

Elrond looked at her with an expression that almost approached fear. Her tone was different somehow, edging on a threat.

"Who do you think he would have chosen, Lord Elrond?" Galadriel moved closer to him, and for a moment Elrond wondered if she intended to try and wrestle the two rings she assumed he carried from him.

"You forget yourself, Lady Galadriel." Elrond said coldly. "I neither bear Narya nor would I wish to. I must return to my studies."

Galadriel looked jealously after him as he nodded his head in parting, and hurried up the path. Then as he disappeared among the trees, she turned and began storming down the path to the river.

~*~

When Galadriel reached the lower garden, a small figure could be seen crawling across the lawn on his hands and knees, staring intently at the grass.

"Is something lost, Elladan?" She asked kindly, smiling as Elladan sat up and stared at her with ill-disguised curiosity.

"Oh no. Well, not mine!" The boy sprang to his feet, brushing the dirt from his palms. "I was looking for that ring you and Ada were talking about. Do you think that if I found it for them they would give me a prize?"

Galadriel's smile faded, and she looked at her grandson seriously.

"I am sure that you would be rewarded in your own way. But sometimes Elladan, it may not be a good idea to accept gifts from those you neither know nor trust."

"Galadriel," Elladan's face was furrowed with concentration and confusion, "Why is someone still looking for a trinket? I think I would have got bored."

He was already bored, and he had been laying this game for but ten minutes.

"It was precious to him, Elladan." Galadriel smiled sadly. "He will look for it until he finds it."

"But why was it precious?" Elladan persisted. "Did it have a big jewel in it?"

His grandmother silently held out her hand with a smile, and when Elladan took it, led him to the river. Here several large mossy boulders disrupted the bubbling flow of the water, and the river foamed white as if gushed over dead leaves and tiny pebbles.

"Sit, child."

Galadriel gathered up her pale skirts to perch on the edge of one such boulder, and since she had asked him to, Elladan followed suit and crawled along the stone to dangle bare feet in the water.

"Here." Galadriel dipped her hand in the water, and as if from nowhere, plucked a smooth pebble of pure white from the pool. Still covered in a film of water, it sparkled and glistened in the dappled light that filtered down through the leaves. Then she reached out and dropped it lightly into her grandson's outstretched palm. "It is beautiful."

"It is." Elladan spoke dreamily as he held the pebble above his head, turning it to catch the wavering beams of light.

"It is your innocence, your trust and what enables you to sleep at night." Galadriel took the small hand in her own, and closed the boy's fist about the stone. "It is yours."

Elladan's mouth went round with surprise. He would never give up such a pebble if he were fortunate enough to find one. Not even to his brother.

"You have many questions, Elladan." Galadriel continued as she got to her feet. "And when you wish them answered, you may return it to me."

Elladan stared after her, sucking on his top lip, then dropped the pebble carefully into the sagging pocket of his tunic. Leaping from his stone, he raced after his grandmother and slipped his hand into hers.

"So, are your bedtime stories even more scary than Glorfindel's?"

~*~

"Is it dinner time yet, Ammë?" Elladan asked peevishly, standing in the doorway and looking balefully at his mother.

"Not yet, Elladan." Celebrian looked up from the torn tunic that she was mending and smiled at her son. Judging by his expression, he was not finding separation from his brother very easy.

"I'm bored, Ammë!" Elladan moaned, flinging himself on the soft cushions that covered the seat. "It is not fair!"

"Well," Celebrian made a few more stitches then turned the garment inside out to check on the progress, "Why do you not read a book? We have plenty here."

"I've read them all." Elladan stuck his face under a cushion. "Already. Ages ago!"

Celebrian looked at the well-stocked bookshelves and shook her head. She doubted that Elladan would ever read all the books that her husband felt it was necessary to fill his house with.

"Or you could go and help lay the table." Celebrian said blithely, and was unsurprised when Elladan did not bother to respond.

"Or make your bed properly. It is not kind to always let someone else do it for you."

Elladan sat up with a scowl.

"I do not want to make my bed. I want to go hunting!"

Celebrian raised her slender eyebrows and added some more stitches, smoothing the fabric between her fingers as she worked.

"Perhaps if you thought to make your bed and help keep the house tidy, someone would offer to take you hunting."

Elladan's face burned angrily, and his eyes flashed darkly at his mother, but he did not dare make the comments that came to mind.

"I am sure that Glorfindel would be glad to take you, if he could be sure that you would listen to what he said and do as he asked. . ."

"I do!" Elladan protested furiously. "I always listen to Glorfindel!"

". . .without arguing." Celebrian said firmly. "Until you are old enough to listen quietly and work hard, Elladan, you really are far too young to be allowed out of the valley."

Elladan turned to face the window, burning inside at the injustice of it all. He would show them. He was definitely old enough to be allowed to go hunting!

~*~

"Now I must return to my papers." Elrond pushed away his plate and stood up with a sigh. "Elladan, why do you not come and keep me company?"

Elladan stared at him and blinked like a rabbit caught in the sudden light of a lantern, but was unable to refuse so nodded mutely.

"Good." Elrond took his eldest's hand. "Come along."

Glorfindel had spoken to him last night and he had to admit that he was concerned at what had been said. Maybe it would help to spend more time with the child. And since Elladan plainly had nothing to do. . .

"Here you go." Elrond reached for a carved wooden chest and handed it to Elladan. It contained a variety of small ships in various shapes and sizes that Cirdan had carved for he and his brother during a visit many years before. When the twins were required to spend quiet time in the study it was a favourite treat to be allowed to play with the toys.

Elladan reached out for the toys then drew back, scowling as he rocked from foot to foot.

"I do not wish to play with toys today." He announced untruthfully. "I wish. . . I wish to . . ."

What did Elrohir do when he sat so quietly anyway?

"I wish to read. A book."

Elrond stopped and stared, wondering if Elladan had somehow managed to persuade his brother to swap places, and if it was Elrohir who was currently before him. But no, it was definitely Elladan from the way he was chewing his lip.

"Very well." Elrond returned the chest to the shelf, his hand being followed by Elladan's eyes. "Help yourself."

The Lord of Imladris waved absently at the shelves of books behind him and met Elladan's challenging glare head on. Elladan's scowl drooped into his thinking expression as he surveyed the shelves of maps, accounts and histories glumly.

Elrond returned to his desk with a small smile.

"Ada." Elladan called with an insolent look and pointed at a hefty volume on the top shelf. "I want to read that one. I cannot reach it."

Elrond paused, halfway to his feet.

"And?"

"Would you please fetch it for me?" Elladan smiled innocently.

Silently Elrond retrieved the book, and saw that his son was safely settled on the window-seat before handing it to him. Elladan's arms dropped several inches, nearly letting the book fall in his surprise at its unexpected weight. Elrond smirked.

"Enjoy."

Elladan watched from beneath lowered lids as his father returned to his desk and began writing, all the while wearing a half-amused expression. There was half an hour's silence, marked only by the random opening and closing of pages. Eventually the book was shut with an emphatic clap.

"Ada, I'm bored." Elladan stretched out the word as only children can.

"Are you child?" Elrond rested his chin in his hand. "Would you like to play with the boats?"

"No." Elladan put the book down and slid to the floor. "I said that I did not wish to play with toys."

"Then what do you wish to do?" Elrond watched his child with an expression halfway between puzzlement and amusement.

Elladan looked from side to side as he thought. Unable to think up a suitable answer he wandered to his father's side.

"What are you doing Ada?"

Elrond set down his quill and carefully blotted the paper.

"I am writing of the happenings in our home." Elladan looked confused, so Elrond lifted him onto his lap to allow the child to see the curvy flowing script. "See, here I have written of the marriages, and the children who are born here. And here I speak of our horses and the cattle."

"Do you write down everything in there Ada?" Elladan looked up curiously.

"Everything important, yes." Elrond flicked through some pages. "See, this is where Glorfindel went to war, and this here was when we decided how much to fish from the river."

Elladan flicked through some pages, looking mainly at the illustrations.

"Am I in here Ada?" The child looked up with sudden interest, and a hint of pride.

"Well yes, of course you are." Elrond ruffled the smooth dark hair and flicked back through the pages. "There."

Elladan leant forwards eagerly to the account, where a careful precise hand had noted the date and time beside the comment 'Twin sons born to Elrond, Lord of Imladris and his wife Celebrian.'

"It does not say our names!"

"Ah, but we had not named you. Glorfindel had not even seen you."

"Why did you not name us? Did you not care?"

"Of course we cared!" Elrond tugged gently on his son's ear for attention. "We wanted to make sure that your names were perfect. You wouldn't want to have been called Glorfestor would you?"

Elladan giggled and rested his head back against his father's chest.

"Which was your favourite name?"

"Well, we had two favourite names." Elrond reminisced, carefully editing out certain parts. "And since we had two little boys, we gave you a name each."

Elladan looked at his father suspiciously.

"But out of Elladan and Elrohir, which did you like best?" Elladan persisted, staring intently at his father.

Elrond smiled slightly.

"Neither. We liked them exactly the same amount. We love you exactly the same amount, so it would only be fair if we gave you names that we liked exactly the same amount, wouldn't it?"

Elladan smiled broadly and relaxed.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Good." Elladan wriggled round to hug his father tightly then frowned. "Do you love difficult people as much as not difficult people?"

Elrond laughed and hugged his son.

"I do. I like my Elladan difficult."

Elladan sat quietly a while, resting against his father's body, before slipping down to the floor.

"Maybe I'll play with the ships after all."

And so Elladan spent the afternoon, sprawled on the floor in a beam of light from the window, carefully planning attacks on the port of 'Rug' with his fleet of ships.

~*~

Elrohir lay silently next to Celeborn in the cover of a bush. He had his bow at the ready and all his senses were tuned to detecting the approach of any animal that might wander down to the pool to drink.

After a while he heard a soft rustling of leaves to his right and out of the trees came a large deer. It was moving rather awkwardly, and he was almost sure that he could hit it, even if it began to run. Moving as smoothly and silently as he could, Elrohir fitted an arrow and tried to aim for the heart. The animal was drinking now and he was ready to shoot.

Except suddenly he did not want to.

He had never seen such a large wild animal so closely before, and the bright dark eyes were so alive. He could see the dark hide moving steadily as the animal took breaths - and it did not seem to be a very fit deer, for it was breathing very deeply and it had not been moving fast at all.

He could not kill this. It was too wild. Too alive. Too real.

But how could he tell his grandfather that. Killing things was the point of a hunting trip after all. He would regret taking him if it turned out that he was too scared to even shoot a deer.

"Elrohir." Celeborn said softly.

"Yes?" Elrohir began to shake with nerves. He would shoot it, but he would regret it forever. And he would shut his eyes before it hit. He could not watch death that he caused.

"Do not shoot."

"Do not?" Elrohir almost went limp with relief.

"No. She is with child." Celeborn nodded towards the deer's swollen body. "You must never shoot an animal that has young unless your life depends on it."

Elrohir smiled at his grandfather, his face shining in outright relief.

"I think that that is a very good idea."

Unaware of its near escape the deer wandered off back into the forest, leaving the young marksman wondering if he would ever be able to view the delicious slices of roast meat in quite the same way ever again. If only there were silver platters of venison slices wandering around the forest instead of the other way round.

~*~

Elladan wandered, bored and unwanted, along the terrace. It was twilight, and with the day's activities at an end, he and his brother would normally be chasing each other through the gardens or fighting with sticks. But instead he had nobody to play with, and somewhere out in those forests his brother was settling down for the night. He didn't even feel jealous anymore. He just wanted Elrohir back.

Even his parents didn't want him. They were talking and laughing with Galadriel, Glorfindel and Erestor, and when he had tried to join in he had been told to 'run along and play'. They did not seem to see that there was no point in running along anywhere if there was nobody to play with and boss about.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he did not notice the old man robed in grey until a voice boomed out of the semi-darkness.

"Good evening, Master Elladan."

Elladan started, then smiled when he saw who it was. He had a healthy respect for the Istar now, having faced him with a sword, and when Mithrandir nodded at the empty space on the bench he ran over eagerly.

"Good evening Mithrandir!" Elladan looked around and was disappointed to find no evidence of a staff. It would have been quite something to be able to boast to Elrohir that he had learnt magic.

Mithrandir watched the expression on the boy's face and the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement, and he removed his pipe to speak.

"You are bored, child." He observed blandly.

For some reason that he could not understand, Elladan did not mind being called child by Mithrandir. Perhaps because he was so obviously very old. He wondered whether the Istar would die soon, Erestor had once told them that when men got very old they turned grey and died. Mithrandir had already turned grey.

"Will you die soon?" Elladan asked curiously, his face half turned up to Mithrandir's.

Mithrandir took a few puffs of his pipe, and blew a smoke ring.

"I look old, do I not."

Elladan nodded, entranced by the smoke ring.

"I grow old, but my task is not yet done." Mithrandir leant back and took another puff of his pipe. "I shall not die."

"Oh." Elladan said, still staring at the pipe. Then feeling that something more was expected of him, "That is good."

Mithrandir chuckled, and then in the silence that followed, blew smoke in the shape of a running horse. Elladan's eyes grew until they looked like saucers, and his mouth fell open.

As the horse disappeared in a faded wisp of smoke, Elladan turned eagerly to Mithrandir.

"Can I try?"

The Istar peered covertly around the corner to find the adults still busy talking. Then he turned back to the child who was bobbing up and down on the seat in his excitement, legs swinging wildly.

"I can see no reason why not."

Mithrandir carefully handed him the pipe, and instructed him on the correct mouth movements to create smoke rings.

With a determined scowl, Elladan took a deep breath from the pipe, and immediately choked and started on a coughing fit. Looking rather guilty, Mithrandir removed the pipe and patted the child gently on the back.

"It tastes nasty." Elladan said eventually, looking up with streaming eyes. "It tastes horrible!"

"Yes, I suppose it might." Mithrandir's eyes sparkled with amusement. "One gets used to it."

"Euch!" Elladan waggled his tongue in the air to try and rid it of the taste. "Who would want to?"

"Elladan!" Celebrian called, wandering along the terrace as she searched for her errant offspring.

Elladan peeped out from behind Mithrandir's back, then quickly ducked back in again.

"There you are. Come now, it is time for you to go to your bed." Celebrian held out her hand to her son, then looked at the two suspiciously. She could smell smoke and there were tear marks on her son's face. Hopefully the Valar would have mercy enough to see that he did not develop any pyromaniac tendencies. "What have you been doing?"

The elfling and the Istar spoke together.

"Nothing!"

~*~

Elrohir and Celeborn sat in companionable silence on an old log, close to their campfire. It was late in the evening now, and although the patch of sky visible from the clearing was still a rich deep blue, the woods that surrounded them were shadows of pitch black.

Glad that Celeborn was with him, especially since he could barely see even a few feet into the trees and he had no idea of what lurked there, Elrohir inched closer to his grandfather. Guessing the reason for such behaviour and hiding his smile at the thought, Celeborn put his arm around the boy and drew him closer.

"It is cold tonight, is it not." Celeborn sniffed at the mild summer air. "You will be warmer here."

Elrohir smiled and snuggled up to his grandfather.

"Shall we sing songs?" He asked hopefully. He loved the songs and the stories in the Hall of Fire, but he thought that they would sound even better alone in a forest somewhere, with only your special friends for company. He would really feel like a warrior, he thought, when he spent his evenings sitting huddled together in the flickering firelight, listening to someone softly singing.

"Why not." Celeborn agreed. "What about the Lay of Luthien?"

"Yes, that is good." Elrohir said seriously. "Shall I sing first?"

They sounded good together, Celeborn reflected. Elrohir's voice was still high and clear and it contrasted well with his deeper tones. Almost as good as when he had sung in a threesome, together with his wife and Celebrian. When his daughter had been Elrohir's age she had always got excited as they approached her favourite bits, and had rushed on ahead of her parents. Listening to Elrohir skip though three lines and then beam as he sang his favoured words, Celeborn smiled at how like his mother he really was.

But was that not what he despised his elder grandson for?

~*~

Elladan lay alone in the dark of his room. He had often asked his father for a room of his own, just like all the older elves, but now he had one it seemed awfully quiet and lonely. He could not remember a night in which he had been unable to hear the soft sound of Elrohir's breathing through the dark, and the sudden silence seemed to ring emptily.

He wondered where Elrohir was and what he was doing. Perhaps he was even thinking of him. Elladan hoped that they would be happy thoughts, even if he did not deserve them. He wanted his brother back so badly.

If only he could say something nice that Elrohir would hear and make it all better. The moment he came back he would run to him and tell him how glad he was that he was back safely. Nothing was fun without Elrohir.

~*~

Elrohir skipped back to the tent, rather more promptly than he would approach his bed at home. He was tired after his long day, and wanted to think about all the happenings. Also there was the thought of what had made that funny snuffling noise behind the tree. But he was trying not to think about that.

Once he was back in the circle of light from the fire, he allowed himself to pause, and stared up at the mass of stars visible in the night sky. Earlier in the evening there had only been a few to see, but as it got darker more and more had joined them until they seemed to whorl over the sky.

It was sort of like problems, Elrohir thought, choosing a warm rock from beside the fire to keep in his blankets. When he was younger there had only been a few - those that shone most brightly. But for every year he aged, it seemed as if there were a few more problems to join them. Elladan had never been a problem before, only a friend. But now he was the biggest cloud on the horizon.

Sadly Elrohir looked up, picked the brightest star, and made a wish that Elladan would be friends with him again. He missed his brother, but probably Elladan had not even noticed that he was gone.

"Elrohir, come on. Bed." Celeborn drew back the flap that covered the opening of the tent and beckoned the child inside.

Elrohir crawled inside and burrowed into the pile of blankets that his grandfather had put ready for him, still clutching his stone for warmth. He wondered if this was what the little baby rabbits felt like inside their burrow, all warm and cosy, but when he queried his grandfather on this Celeborn had merely grunted.

Sighing happily Elrohir tucked himself in, right up to the ears and began drifting off to sleep. He made a last effort at conversation by mumbling something about adult elves having so many problems that the sky was all white, but by the time Celeborn turned to him with a bemused look, he was fast asleep.

Smiling in spite of himself, Celeborn leant over to kiss Elrohir's forehead, then blew out the candle, plunging the tent into darkness.

Down in one of the meadows where the youngest elflings had often played, there was a large tree stump, surrounded by an unexpected number of large round rocks. This was the favoured spot for the game of 'Defeat the Dragon', and during that long summer there had hardly been a day where one of the twins had not enthralled them during dinner with tales of their valour and excitement during the game.

~*~

The morning sun was shining through the canvas of the tent when Elrohir woke. The stone he grasped had long gone cold, but he was warm under his blankets. An extra blanket had been draped over his sleeping body making the covers seem heavy, and when he rolled over he found that his grandfather had left the tent.

Blearily he threw the blankets to one side, and crawled to the entrance of the tent. The morning was cool yet, and the air smelt of wood smoke. His grandfather was crouched in the middle of the glade, poking at the fire, and the horses were moving among the trees at the edge of the clearing, seeking out fresh clumps of grass.

"Celeborn!" Elrohir cried, scrambling to his feet and skipping nimbly across the ground to his grandfather to give him a hug. "Good morning!"

"It is a good morning, indeed." Celeborn returned the hug. He had been surprised to find that without the dominant presence of his twin, Elrohir was very nearly as noisy and exuberant as Elladan.

"Is it breakfast time yet?" Elrohir knelt down beside the open leather pack and rummaged around inside it. "What shall we eat?"

"Apples." Celeborn nodded towards two packages that he had already removed from the pack. "And bread."

"Yummy!" Elrohir rubbed his stomach and looked at Celeborn with pleading eyes. "I am hungry."

"Dress yourself first." Celeborn said, unmoved by Elrohir's look. "The stream is just over there."

Realising that his grandfather was not such a soft touch as his mother was, Elrohir scampered off to wash and dress as quickly as possible.

The stream was fast flowing and icy cold, and after dipping his big toe into one of the larger pools, Elrohir was unwilling to immerse any other section of his body, and instead simply exchanged his nightshirt for his tunic and leggings and hurried back to the camp.

"Your hair is very dry, Elrohir." Celeborn observed simply, and looked hard at his grandson.

Elrohir reached up and touched his hair with a guilty expression.

"I. . . forgot my towel!" Elrohir grabbed at his towel and skipped back to the river, leaving his grandfather shaking his head and smiling.

Elrohir shivered as he waded into the water, and sat down on the stony riverbed, letting the water flow around him. He automatically flicked water to either side as he washed, only really realising that there was nobody there when he was not dunked back.

Frowning, Elrohir sighed and finished washing and dressing slowly. The world was an awfully boring place when there was nobody to share it with.

~*~

Elladan walked slowly to the dining table and climbed onto his chair.

"Good morning Ammë, Ada." He nodded his head in greeting less bouncily than usual. There were shadows around his eyes, and his hair had been braided far more carefully than normal.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?" Celebrian asked with a note of concern. Her son's cheeks were rather pale and his mouth was definitely down-turned.

"Yes, thank you Ammë." Elladan said quietly, running a finger along the pattern of leaves on the handle of his fork. He had not really - it had been far too quiet without the noise of his brother breathing and the sound of a twin heart beating. By the time he had got to sleep the morning light was already coming pale across the mountainside.

Elrond and Celebrian exchanged worried glances.

"Do you feel unwell, Elladan?" Elrond asked, feeling the child's forehead and making a mental note to examine the boy after breakfast.

"No." Elladan said grumpily, hunching his shoulders to deter further attempts to diagnose his malady.

Elrond looked at Celebrian and shook his head slightly. Once Elladan had decided that he did not want to speak, it was difficult to get even a few syllables out of him.

"Would you like an egg, Elladan?" Celebrian hovered a large ladle over the round earthenware pot that held the freshly boiled eggs.

"Oh. . ." He had completely forgotten that today was egg day. "Yes please, Ammë!"

Celebrian smiled at the sudden cheerfulness in his tone. Both twins loved eggs.

"There." She gave Elladan an egg and raised her eyebrows slightly as she looked at the bread basket, reminding him to offer it around.

Once everybody's plates were filled with eggs and bread and fruit, Elladan fidgeted impatiently until his father took up his knife and he was allowed to start. As usual for egg day, Elrond had barely touched the handle of the knife when Elladan took the top off his egg with an enthusiastic swish.

"I am stabbing an orc!" Elladan whispered loudly as he plunged a chunk of bread into the yolk. Then as he realised that there was nobody to play with him, and his comment had gone unheard by its intended recipient, he put the bread down and began eating with a spoon, his shoulders sagging miserably.

"Elladan, child, what is wrong?" Celebrian asked, reaching over to place a slender hand on her son's shoulder, being careful to avoid dragging the loose sleeve of her gown dragging in the butter.

"Nothing!" Elladan turned to face his parents, his eyes brimful of tears. "I am just fine."

"Elladan?" Celebrian got up from her seat as silent tears began to flow down her son's face faster than he could lick them away.

"I want 'Ro." Elladan sniffed. "I want him here with me."

"Oh, Elladan." Celebrian picked him up with rather more difficulty than she had had a few years ago, and he snuggled his face against her neck. "Elrohir will be home soon."

"I don't want him soon. I want him now." Elladan said in a muffled voice. "I want him with me."

~*~

Glorfindel strolled across the terrace and down the steps into the family's gardens. Since Elrond was in neither the study or the library, and Celebrian was nowhere to be found, it was a fair guess that they would be somewhere in Celebrian's rose garden.

Moving deliberately noisily, Glorfindel made his way along the tiled paths, hoping to make them aware of his approach before he stumbled upon them. Sometimes he thought that his friends took the word private a little too literally, especially considering that anybody could walk into the gardens whenever they wished.

"Glor?" Elrond's head poked out of a hidden nook, looking slightly annoyed.

"Ah, Peredhil!" Glorfindel smirked at his friend's expression. "I am missing my pupil."

"Oh. . ." Elrond said in an exasperated tone. "He is napping. Did you not know?"

"No, Elrond, I did not. I have merely been sitting waiting for him." Glorfindel said shortly.

"He is asleep, but it is about time that he woke." Celebrian's voice was soft, but Elrond knew from a certain glint in her eye that she expected him to stop taunting the blond elf. "He was upset this morning and he had not slept well."

"Right." Glorfindel smiled at Celebrian, scowled at the half-elf and departed.

Elrond wrapped his arms back around his wife, and put all thoughts of frustrating blond elves out of his head.

~*~

"Elladan." Glorfindel said softly, shaking the child's shoulder. He was sprawled on the bed, fast asleep and looking every bit as adorable as he had as a slumbering toddler, a few years ago - the twins did not go in for adorable much any more.

"Nuh." Elladan screwed up his eyes and turned his face into the pillow, drawing up his knees and curling into a tight ball.

"Elladan?" Glorfindel knelt down by the bed and brushed some of the dark hair from the warm little face.

"What. . ." Elladan wrinkled his nose slightly and opened his eyes, then wriggled to sit up, propping himself up on his arms.

"It is time to wake." Glorfindel said gently, placing his large hand behind Elladan's back, smoothing down some of the creases and rumples in the small tunic.

"Oh. . ." Elladan peered at the sunlight highlighting the contrast between Glorfindel's loose golden hair and the rich blue of his tunic. "Why. . ."

"You were napping. But it is time for lessons now." Glorfindel explained patiently.

Elladan scowled. His Ammë should have woken him, even if he had fallen to sleep when he was being cuddled. It was only fair.

"Now. . ." Elladan reached up to rub his eyes, remembering his resolution to be responsible and reliable. He had thought about it long and hard last night. "Good. Let's start now."

Glorfindel chuckled and picked him up, walking to the bathroom to fill a beaker with fresh cold water. Once Elladan had drunk most of this, he was much more alert, and the bright eyes were dancing again.

"I think you might be a bit sleepy as yet."

"Am not." Elladan wriggled until Glorfindel set him down again. "I am too old to be carried."

"You are?" Glorfindel feigned surprise and handed Elladan a damp flannel to wipe his face and hands.

"Most definitely." Elladan placed the flannel over his face and blew out into it to make a mushroom shape.

Glorfindel grinned and strode to the window.

"Why do we not have our lessons outside, it is a beautiful day."

"Can we?" Elladan bounced to the window and held up his hands for Glorfindel to pick him up so that he could see out. "Good!"

~*~

Glorfindel and Elladan were working down in a quiet corner of the gardens, in the leafy shade of a huge and ancient oak tree. Glorfindel was leaning against the tree, ignoring the bits of bark that were rubbing off into his hair, and reading some papers. Elladan was lying on his stomach, kicking his feet against the ground as he read.

They sat in peaceful silence for a while, until Elladan finished the chapter and had finished perusing the map at the back.

"Glorfindel."

"Have you finished?" Glorfindel put down his papers and shuffled forward to take the book.

"Yes. . . but. . ." Elladan rolled over onto his back and sat up. "But Glorfindel, it did not say what it was like. Not for people like me. What was it like? You must know. You were there."

Glorfindel sat back, resting on his palms, and sighed. He had known that as the twins grew older then their questions would increase. What he had not counted on was the intensity of the memories that it brought back.

"What was it like?" Glorfindel closed his eyes for a moment to remember the warmth of the stones on a summer's day and the sweet fruity smell of the market. "Well, when I was your age I had a room up in one of the towers of our house. I would wake up every day when the morning sun shone through the cleft in the mountains and into my bedroom. And then, because I rose early, I would run down to the river, and stand under the waterfall. Then of course there would be breakfast, and lessons. . ."

Glorfindel pulled a face and Elladan giggled.

"But in the afternoons, after our fencing lessons, I would go to a small square near the sword smith's house. Many of us boys would gather there. And we would practice sparring. . ."

Entranced, Elladan leant forward eagerly, listening to Glorfindel speak of hot and dusty battles, hide and seek along the city walls, and building rafts secretly. When the blond elf next looked up, the sun was high in the sky, well past midday.

"Hurry, Elladan!" Glorfindel gathered up the books and sprung to his feet. "I have let time run on. You will be late for your meal."

Suddenly realising how hungry he was, Elladan bit back his complaint at the end of the story.

"Glorfy?" Elladan asked, scrambling to his feet and running after Glorfindel.

"Yes?" Glorfindel shook back his sleeve to grasp the small hand that was reaching up to him.

"You're my friend aren't you, Glorfy? Not just Ada's friend?" Elladan asked hopefully, looking up with eyes that betrayed how much the blond elf's answer would mean to him.

"Well, I am the whole family's friend." Glorfindel said carefully. But the child was right - somehow in the last few years the twins had wormed their way from being mere children in his thoughts, to being little people in their own right. Little people who he enjoyed being with. He had to admit that he looked forward to the time spent with Elladan on the archery ranges - more than that - he treasured it. Every minute - every second - meant something, and each held their own memories. "But yes, you are my friend. And I am very much looking forward to knowing you."

"Oh good." Elladan grinned cheekily up at Glorfindel, and started dragging him up the path.

~*~

"Now, shoot!" The training master called, bringing his arm down quickly. The elflings all released their arrows and waited with breath held to see where they should hit. Amidst the small delighted yelps and frustrated sighs, Elladan allowed himself a small smile. He had hit the centre again. In fact it was happening so often now that he played games with himself to see how many he could get in a row.

He wondered how much Elrohir was beating his record by. Elrohir was still coming home from every lesson with tales of how he had been praised, or how he had won the small contests that his training master held. It was so totally unfair, Elladan thought. He had never been praised or even participated in a contest. Maybe everyone in the other group was so much better than he was that there was no point. He was just too terrible to be praised.

"Elladan." The training master made his way along the little row, commenting to each elfling as he passed. Eventually he halted by Elladan and examined his grip and aim. In terms of learning skills, this summer would be a waste for him, but there were more important lessons that he was learning instead. Unable to fault the child's grip, he instead walked to the target and moved it ten paces further away. "There."

~*~

Once the lesson had finished, and they had been reminded to bring their towels the next afternoon, the elflings began their way either home or to their play areas.

"Let's play 'Defeat the Dragon'!" One boy suggested, a game involving three elflings guarding a pile of large round stones on a huge tree stump, and the others trying to capture the 'treasure'.

"Yes! I want to be a dragon!" Another cried.

"And me!" Five or six voices shouted at once.

"I shall be one dragon." One of the biggest boys said, and then pointed at two other boys. "You can be a dragon, and you can be a dragon too!"

"But I do not want to be a dragon." One of the boys protested, but quickly quietened himself as he caught the leader's eye.

"Alright! Then we are the soldiers!" Elladan called loudly, punching the air as he drew his troops to arms. "I am Lord Elladan, High King of Imladris!"

The air was immediately filled with all the others declaring their titles and houses. One tiny blond-haired elfling pulled off his tunic and threaded a long stick through the sleeves, as a banner of his house - the mighty Balrog slayers of Imladris.

There was a general chorus of approval at this idea and several others removed their tunics or belts to make their own banners. Beaming, the little elfling ran to and fro fetching sticks - it was not often that one of his ideas was taken up by the big boys.

The leader frowned as the focus of attention was taken away from him, and the game revolved around one of the smallest and most diminutive of his minions.

"Do not be stupid!" He grabbed the banner out of the little elf's hands. "You are much too small and stupid to defeat a Balrog."

He snapped the stick in half, and prodded the little blond elf with one broken end.

"You will never be a great warrior. You will never defeat a Balrog." He sneered and looked back at the crowd to draw support in cruel laughter. "Balrog slayers do not suck their thumbs."

The child quickly withdrew his thumb, which had slowly edged towards his mouth as the attack had continued, blinking furiously to keep away the tears.

"You will never be a great anything. All you will ever be is a stupid little boy who acts out pretend battles with his toys."

The group of boys began laughing, a little uncertainly at first, but then more loudly, adding their own taunts. Most of them were still very fond of playing with their own soldiers, and if they did not join in with pouring scorn on the victim, then someone might guess.

The little boy began to cry, tears spilling out from his eyes and his breath coming in gasps as he tried to stop.

The ringleader stepped closer to him, bringing the sharp end of the stick up against the boy's neck.

"What do you call yourself? Iorwë, thumb-sucker, slayer of primroses. . ."

"Actually," Elladan pushed through the crowd to stand by Iorwë, "Actually Balrog slayers do play with toys. Glorfindel has played soldiers with me lots of times. Most of the time Balrog slayers are not doing Balrog slayery things, actually."

The crowd stopped jeering, and began to make noises that indicated that they agreed with Elladan. After all, he was the only one of them who actually knew a real live Balrog slayer, even though Lord Glorfindel had occasionally stopped to comment on a few of them when he had come across them practising.

Aware of his precarious position as group leader, the larger boy scowled at Elladan, and pushed Iorwë aside.

"How dare you insult Lord Glorfindel's name." He hissed and the comments from the crowd, suggested that he had regained the support of the crowd. "I bet that if he had heard you, he would smite you to Mandos."

"I did not." Elladan ducked to avoid the punch the other boy swung at him. "And he would no sooner harm me than he would acknowledge you."

This rankled. The boy was neither the greatest archer nor the most skilled in sword work. Indeed he was the oldest child in the lower training group, and it had not escaped his knowledge that he had never been singled out for praise or attention. With an angry yell he flung himself at Elladan, knocking the smaller elfling to the ground. He was much larger than Elladan, and try as he might, Elladan had no chance of beating him, or even holding his own.

Eventually the onslaught stopped and the rest of the group ran down to the meadows to play their game, leaving Elladan curled up in a ball and winded on the ground. Eventually he regained his breath and pushed himself up, and begun limping up the painful path to the house.

"Are you all right?" Iorwë materialised from the trees around him, and scampered over to stand at Elladan's side.

"I am fine." Elladan wiped his bloody nose on the sleeve of his tunic.

"That looks painful." Iorwë pointed towards a deep cut on Elladan's arm.

Elladan paused, and looked down at the cut. Iorwë was right - it was painful, but more than that, he did not know how to clean if up himself. But if he went to his Ada then he would find out that he had been fighting. Anybody responsible enough to go hunting would not get into a fight over pretend banners.

"It is." Elladan said sadly, trying not to cry. Then he remembered how Iorwë had been shoved aside. It had been a rough shove for a boy of seven. "Are you alright?"

"It does not hurt too badly." Iorwë said bravely. "He did not hit me again and again as he did with you."

Elladan grunted a response and began limping back up the valley.

"You know what?" Iorwë scampered alongside him, smiling happily.

"What?"

"When I am older I am going to be just like you. I bet that you could slay a Balrog."

"I could not even fight him." Elladan said sadly.

"Oh no, but he is much more terrible than any Balrog. . ." Iorwë said eagerly, getting down on his hands and knees to get up over a rocky outcrop.

Elladan sighed, and tried to keep smiling. All he wanted was to be somewhere alone so that he could cry.

~*~

"Eru! What happened to you?" Glorfindel paused in removing his gloves and chatting to his captains as Elladan limped towards him.

"I fell down some steps." Elladan gulped back tears. There was no way that he could cry in front of the six most fearsome soldiers in the Imladris Guard. They had just finished practising fencing, and each carried a weapon that could bring fear into the hearts of orcs.

"Ah." Glorfindel wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve, and tilted his sword back to allow him to kneel down in front of the child. "Who pushed you?"

"Nobody!" Elladan shook his head, looking down at the ground. "I just fell, that's all."

"Very well." Glorfindel observed Elladan with slightly narrowed eyes. Children were not allowed anywhere near the Guard's training fields as a rule, so by rights Elladan should not have been here at all. "Where does it hurt?"

Elladan took a deep breath and held it to stave off tears.

"Everywhere. But my arm, and I cut my knee and it hurts to walk." Elladan explained. "It hurt too much to walk all the way home."

Glorfindel smiled slightly at this. Now the boy wanted to be carried.

"All right." He crouched down further to help Elladan climb onto his back, then got to his feet. "I cannot take you home, for I must teach a training session in a few minutes, but we will get you patched up."

"Thank you." Elladan murmured and tried to rest his head against Glorfindel's shoulder, but since the blond elf was wearing a chain mail shirt over his tunic, this was not terribly comfortable. Instead he fiddled with Glorfindel's hair, hoping that anybody that they passed would think that he was just interested in the undone and tangled braids, rather than notice that he had been crying.

~*~

"There we are." Glorfindel sat Elladan down on top of a tall stool in the first aid room in the soldiers' barracks. Injuries were common when training, and if every scratch, scrape and graze were sent to the infirmary then Elrond would not get a moment free. Carefully he helped Elladan remove his tunic and checked that there were no unseen injuries that would require further attention. Luckily the child seemed to have escaped anything more severe than a few deep cuts, and once he had wiped off most of the blood and dirt, Elladan was looking much better.

"Which steps did you fall down?" Glorfindel asked casually as he took a large brown bottle down from the shelf, covered the mouth with a damp cloth and tipped it upside down quickly.

Elladan shifted uncomfortably.

"You know that it was not really steps, Glorfindel."

Glorfindel smiled slightly, and bent to clean the cuts on Elladan's knees with his cloth.

"I got into. . . ." Elladan broke off to yell. "That stings!"

Glorfindel reached up to touch the child's face.

"I know, but I have to clean out the dirt or you may get ill."

"Ada's lotion does not hurt that much." Elladan said accusingly, battling valiantly against the impending tears.

"I know." Glorfindel took Elladan's thin arm firmly in his large hand to hold it steady as he begun to clean up and bandage the cut. "But your Ada uses a special lotion for you because you are little, and we do not have any here."

"I do not like that." Elladan scowled towards the bottle. "It hurts worse than the cut."

"Mmm." Glorfindel finished the bandaging and looked at the child's face. Elladan had gone quite white, and his lips were pressed together so firmly that they had lost most of their colour. "Just a second."

He unfastened his mail shirt and pulled it off, then picked up the child for a proper cuddle. Elladan snuggled gratefully against the soft tunic and let Glorfindel hold him as the blond elf walked back to his own room.

Once they were inside Glorfindel hung the mail shirt over the back of a chair, and keeping one hand to hold Elladan, rapidly splashed water on his face and combed the tangles out of his hair. Elladan was silent for a while, then spoke sadly.

"Am I a nuisance, Glorfindel?"

"A nuisance? No." Glorfindel spoke through a screen of hair. "Why?"

"Well. If you had not been cleaning my cuts, what would you have been doing?" Elladan asked. "Now you are in a hurry."

"Ah. Yes." Glorfindel set Elladan down, and began braiding his hair. "Normally I would go down to the waterfall to wash, and change. But I can do that after this training."

Elladan frowned and muttered something while looking at the floor.

"Elladan." Glorfindel fastened the thin leather ties on his braids, and adjusted the belt of his sword. "If I had minded, then I would have found some excuse not to carry you. Now, what are you going to do now?"

Elladan shrugged, looking happier.

"If we send a message to your Ammë and Ada, and if you promised to sit very quietly through sword training, then we could go down to the archery ranges early and we could have a picnic down there."

"I can watch?" Elladan asked disbelievingly. None of his friends had ever been allowed to watch the Guard doing sword training, since the adult elves considered it dangerous to keep over-excitable little elflings close to exceedingly sharp blades being swung at great speeds. "Really, Glorfindel?"

"Of course." Glorfindel affirmed, putting on his gloves and guiding Elladan to the door with a hand on his shoulder. It could do no harm to spoil the child occasionally, especially as he seemed to have more need of it than Elrohir right now.

~*~

Elladan let another arrow fly, and smiled when it hit the centre. Glorfindel nodded approvingly, and watched the child's hands to check the grip and smoothness of release as he repeated the exercise.

"You are improving, certainly. But you have far to go." Glorfindel looked at the target again and frowned. "What are you learning in training?"

"We shoot at targets." Elladan sighed. "Today the training master moved my target further away."

"Well, that was nice. You must be getting better." Glorfindel said, then noticed that Elladan did not appear as enthusiastic as he might have about this new development. "Did that not please you?"

Elladan shrugged.

Perhaps Elrohir had reached the same milestone many weeks before, Glorfindel pondered. Maybe he should talk to Elrond to see how the younger twin was progressing.

"Do not worry Elladan, you will soon catch up with your brother. You shoot a little better each time I see you."

"Mmm." Elladan shrugged miserably. Even Glorfindel thought that his brother was better than him. "It was just that. . ."

He looked worriedly at Glorfindel, unsure about whether what he was about to say counted as telling tales.

"Just what?" Glorfindel asked patiently.

"Promise that you will not tell anyone?" Elladan asked seriously.

"I promise." Glorfindel repeated equally seriously, then smiled.

"I do not think that some of the other boys liked me so much because of it." Elladan bit his lip, then turned away afraid of what Glorfindel would think of him once he heard what he was going to say next. "They've begun calling me names, Glorfindel. And they whisper things that I can't hear, and they never be my partner any more."

Glorfindel paused, unsure of how to respond. Elladan seemed to think that it was the most shameful thing to happen to anyone, and while he knew it was just the small politics of little boys, it seemed so heartless to tell him that the others were just jealous and that they would grow tired of it in a few months.

"I do not like going to training any more, Glorfindel." Elladan scuffed his moccasin in the dirt.

"Well, you have to go to training." Glorfindel said uncertainly. "If you show that you do not care, then they will soon stop."

Elladan gave him a withering look. Grinning, Glorfindel grabbed him with an arm around the waist and drew him close for a cuddle.

"Well, would you rather be a good archer, or have lots of cheap friends?" Glorfindel gave the child a little shake. "And you tell me if you fall down any more steps, understand?"

~*~

Elrond and Celebrian looked up gladly from their books when Glorfindel and Elladan appeared on the terrace.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Celebrian asked as Elladan hurried towards her and gave her a hug and began chattering excitedly.

"I hope that he was not too much trouble." Elrond said, peering closely at Elladan through the darkness. "What. . ."

"He fell down some steps." Glorfindel said firmly, mouthing afterwards, "I'll talk to you later."

"I saw proper soldiers fencing Ada!" Elladan piped up happily. "With really big swords!"

Glorfindel caught Elrond's eye and both grinned broadly, annoying Elladan greatly.

"What?"

They were saved from explanation by the sound of running footsteps, and Elrohir burst onto the terrace, followed at some distance by Celeborn.

"Elladan! Elladan!" Elrohir charged through his parents to get to his brother.

"Elrohir!" Elladan shouted with more happiness than he had shown for days. "I am so glad you are back."

The twins stood and stared at each other's faces in silence for a few moments, as if checking that each other were unchanged, then at the same moment smiled then spoke together.

"I missed you."

The adults turned to each other to share indulgent smiles, and when the turned back the to twins, they had slipped off, hand in hand, to some secret place where they could make their peace.

~*~

"Glor!" Elrond hurried after his friend as he began heading home. Celeborn had just arrived and he was talking to Celebrian. "I am sorry."

Glorfindel smiled and squeezed Elrond's arm.

"It is all right. I am sorry too."

"Whatever for?" Elrond demanded, looking hard at his friend, who was clearly laughing at him. "What did you do?"

"Me? Oh nothing, Peredhil!" Glorfindel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Although it is possible that if I saw Curunír heading for your rose garden, I said nothing of it."

Both of the twins owned capes from Lorien, a gift on their eighth begetting day. They were made of the shadowy grey cloth of Lorien, and embroidered along the edges with elvish script made of gold thread. The twins were supposed to take them with them whenever it was likely to rain, but in the summer more often than not they would 'forget', and several hours later two sheepish dripping elflings would traipse into the house, ready for a splash in a hot bath.

~*~

Elrond strode into Glorfindel's study with only a brief knock.

"Glor!"

"Peredhil?" Glorfindel turned in his chair, one blond brow raised. Elrond was carrying neither papers nor books which could generally be considered a good sign.

"Steps. Elladan fell down some steps. You did not tell me!" Elrond sounded inexplicably angry.

Glorfindel set down his pen and twisted his chair around, giving his friend a look that clearly said that he did not understand the sharpness of the Lord of Imladris' tone.

"Sorry." Elrond said apologetically. He was not angry with the blond elf - he was angry with himself. How could he have forgotten to question his friend on this last night. In the excitement of Elrohir's return it had completely left his mind. And why did Glorfindel know when he did not? He was the boy's father after all.

Glorfindel nodded his acceptance of the apology.

"Sit down Elrond."

Elrond perched himself impatiently on the edge of the window-seat, playing his fingers along the edge of the cushion.

"Tell me what happened, Glor."

"I do not know the whole story," Glorfindel warned, "But he seems to be having trouble with some of the other little boys."

"Is he fighting again?" Elrond sighed, wishing for a few guilty seconds that Elladan was a little more like his brother.

Glorfindel grimaced and shook his head.

"I do not think that he started this fight. He is not foolish, and this was hardly a fair fight."

Elrond frowned.

"And then he came to you?"

Glorfindel nodded.

"And he stayed with me after that. I do not think that he sustained anything more serious than cuts and bruises, but it may be wise to check."

Elrond nodded and sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Why did he go to you, Glor?" He asked at last, his tone asking the silent question, "Am I not a good father?"

"He did not want to walk all the way up to the house." Glorfindel said, feeling like he was making excuses. "I had to carry him up the path."

Elrond nodded and said no more on the subject. He did not know what a father should say - what a father should feel. His own father was little more than a dark blur of memory, and the others that they had called father had recognised that by the time the twins had reached them, they held precious little child in them.

Stretching, he got to his feet, then turned to Glorfindel.

"If you are not busy, why do you not come and eat with us?" Elrond asked. It would be nice to have some extra faces around the table. "Erestor too."

~*~

"Race you!" A voice called, and light feet pelted down the corridor.

There was a yelp and another voice, deceptively similar to the first complained, "Elladan."

One pair of feet continued running and Elladan swung round the door-frame and called out triumphantly.

"Beat you!"

"That's not fair, Elladan." Elrohir walked to the door and elbowed Elladan aside. "I'm telling Ada."

Elladan scowled at his brother and sulkily said, "I didn't do anything."

"You pushed me." Elrohir gave Elladan an upset look. "You cheated."

"I did not cheat!" Elladan's voice increased in volume.

"Boys!" Celebrian said warningly.

The twins turned to the table, and simultaneously beamed with delight at the sight of Glorfindel and looked slightly less enthusiastically at the sight of Erestor.

"Sorry, Ammë." The twins spoke together, then Elrohir ran to one of the empty chairs. "I'm sitting next to Glorfindel!"

The younger twin scrambled onto the chair next to the blond elf and smiled at Elladan, satisfied at having got his own revenge. Elladan chewed on his lip and was about to protest when he saw his father's look.

Silently he climbed onto the last remaining chair and put his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his clenched fists.

"Elladan." Celebrian looked hard at her son.

Elladan silently removed his elbows, and was about to wrinkle his nose at Elrohir when he noticed how hurt Erestor looked. He remembered how he had felt when nobody would sit with him at snack time.

"I am glad to sit by you, Erestor." Elladan said, hoping that he sounded genuine.

Erestor murmured something and Glorfindel smiled at Elrond.

"Well, who is hungry?" Celebrian said briskly, serving out onto the plates. She had seen the glint of mischief in the blond elf's eyes, and did not want to wait and see how he would tease Erestor if he was not distracted. "Glorfindel?"

The meal proceeded happily, with the usual chatter, reminders to cut up meat and requests to pass the water.

"Did you have a good morning?" Erestor addressed the twins, making an effort to get them talking to him.

The twins looked at each other and sighed. Every visitor their father had asked something similar, and each time they had to invent a suitably polite response.

"We had lessons." Elrohir said kindly, as if talking to a small and particularly slow human child.

"Boring lessons." Elladan said with a mischievous peep at Glorfindel. "Spelling."

Glorfindel pretended to bare his teeth at Elladan and chuckled.

"Spelling is very important." Erestor put down his fork and spoke seriously. "Nobody will understand what you have to say if you do not express yourself correctly."

Elladan scowled at his plate, feeling betrayed. He had been nice to Erestor, and now Erestor was being mean to him.

"Yes, Erestor." Elladan yawned loudly, and put a whole potato in his mouth so Erestor could not expect him to make any further comments.

Looking disappointed, Erestor returned his attention to his plate and the table lapsed into awkward silence. After a few moments, Elrohir took advantage of the silence to make sure his requests were listened to, something quite rare when you spent your life next to a noisy brother.

"Ada. When can we have bows of our own?" He asked hopefully. "Lots of other boys' Adas have got them bows of their own."

Elladan began chewing as fast as he could to be able to join in the conversation.

"Bows of your own. . ." Elrond paused and thought for a few moments while two little faces stared at him intently. "Well, you will soon be ten. Perhaps you will get bows for your begetting day."

He looked at Celebrian and she smiled and nodded.

"Yes, wait until your begetting day. When you are ten." She confirmed.

Elrohir sighed, and Elladan continued chewing and swallowing with urgent speed.

"That is months away." Elrohir said with a pleading look at his parents. They did not celebrate their begetting day until late in the autumn, when frost and ice had already touched the garden. On a blazing hot day at the height of summer, it was hard to even imagine their begetting day, let alone contemplating waiting for it.

"Ammë!" Elladan spluttered through a mouthful of potato. "Tha. . ."

"Do not speak with your mouth full, Elladan." Celebrian said calmly.

Elladan rolled his eyes and finished chewing, tapping his feet impatiently on the floor.

"Ammë!" He burst out when he had finally managed to swallow the potato. "We need new bows now! There is this one boy in my group, and he has this bow that can shoot so far!"

"Your bows are perfectly adequate for the distances you are capable of shooting." Elrond said, earning an impatient look from Elrohir. "You do not yet need new bows."

"But Ada!" Elladan protested, despite the fact he knew from experience that his father would not be moved. "If I had a new bow I would do better in archery, do you not want that?"

Elrohir and Elladan exchanged smirks, clearly thinking that this was the blow beyond all others, the one that would make their father change his mind.

"I would like both of you to do well in archery." Elrond said, pouring his wife another glass of wine. "But I feel that is better brought by practice, than by equipment that you cannot do justice to."

Elladan scowled and was about to protest when Glorfindel broke in.

"I remember that I once felt the same way that you do, Elladan." The blond elf said seriously, not missing the 'now-you've-got-us-a-lecture' look that Elrohir gave his brother. "I soon learnt better."

He closed his eyes for moment to remember the feeling of being pushed defeated into the dirt, his beautiful sword clanging to the ground before him. He had been so sure that he would win; he knew that he was the best at fencing, at he had the finest sword of all the children in Gondolin. So he had not bothered to practice.

Sighing, he looked down at his left wrist to look at the pale scar that he had gained as a result of that skirmish, but it was not there of course.

"Weapons are useless you can wield them, Elladan. You could take your father's bow if you wished, but I doubt that it would do you any good."

Elladan looked down at his plate and prodded his broccoli. It always came down to this. He was not as good as his brother at archery, he was not good enough to be praised and he was not even good enough to use a proper bow.

"Yes, Glorfindel."

~*~

Elrond sat at his desk, supposedly working, but actually watching his boys as they played in the orchards prior to going down to training. Celebrian was coming towards them now, holding a towel and a few stray arrows and once again saving her sons from reprimands for being ill-equipped, or late, or both.

Watching the twins stand on tiptoes to kiss their mother goodbye, his thoughts of the morning came drifting back to him. Elladan had been hurt, and he had gone to Glorfindel.

Pushing his chair back so hastily that it nearly tipped over, Elrond sprang to his feet and strode down to the gardens. He quickly caught up with his sons, just before they split up to go to their different training sessions. They looked so similar from behind.

"Elladan!" Elrond called, causing both boys to turn around and look at him. "I am heading in your direction. Why do we not walk down together?"

Elladan smiled and skipped to his father's side, leaning his head against his father's thigh. Elrohir gave his father a miserable look, and continued down his path alone, his shoulders slumped.

Elrond sighed regretfully. It was impossible to be fair when parenting two boys who were so very different. Perhaps he could find something special to do with his younger son tonight.

Elladan transferred his bow into his other hand, and reached up to slip his hand into his father's larger one.

"How is training going?" Elrond asked casually, glancing at the bruises on his son's outstretched arm.

"It is going well, Ada." Elladan said rather less cheerfully than might have been expected. Then more optimistically added, "I heard Glorfindel talking about a special move! Will you show it to me?"

"Which move was this?" Elrond asked curiously, wondering what exactly Elladan had overheard, and hoping that it was not the punch line of one of Glorfindel's jokes.

Elladan cocked his head and bit his lip as he thought.

"I think. . . I think that it was. . . Ecthelion?"

"Ecthelion's Block?" Elrond queried.

"Yes, that was it!" Elladan jumped excitedly down some steps, pulling his father with him. "Will you show me, Ada?"

"It is a difficult move. . ." Elrond began, then looked down into his son's eager, upturned face. "But I am sure that you will manage well."

Elladan beamed, and each step became a joyous bounce. Elrond smiled at his son's exuberance, then grimaced slightly as he attempted to broach the awkward subject of the steps.

"Glorfindel told me that you slipped down some steps yesterday." He said casually. "I would like to examine the wounds after dinner."

"Why?" Elladan asked suspiciously, wondering if Glorfindel had told on him.

"Well, I want to make sure that they are healing properly. And I do not want you to be hurting if you do not have to be." Elrond said patiently.

"Oh." Elladan relaxed. "It does not hurt much, Ada."

"Good." Elrond smiled, then feeling that the conversation was going quite well. "Do you like the boys in your new training group? They were not your usual friends, I know."

Elladan stiffened and scowled at the floor. Glorfindel had told.

"I do. They all are my friends." Elladan said defensively, quickening his pace so that they would arrive at their destination sooner.

"Elladan." Elrond sighed and tried to stroke his son's hair, but Elladan pulled away.

"I did not mean to fight! I did not mean to." Tears sprung up in Elladan's eyes.

Elrond frowned, then seeing that they had reached the deep pool used for swimming, knelt and gave his unwilling son a hug. Elladan remained stiff at first, then relaxed into his father's body.

"You know that you can talk to me at any time?"

Elladan mumbled a reply, then ran off to join the throng of elflings, pausing to look back at his father as he got back on his feet and walked away.

~*~

"I shall count to one hundred!" A young dark-haired elfling called, covering his face with his hands, and turning to face the tree that had been designated the home base. "One. . . Two. . ."

The group of elflings, comprising some twenty boys from the two training groups, exchanged a few quick glances before fleeing in varying directions. They pelted through the woodlands, their light steps barely making a sound over the soft grass and remains of last year's fallen leaves.

It was a sunny day, and the golden light of late afternoon filtered down through the leaves and branches, giving the ground a dappled effect that rippled as the evening breeze blew the leaves to-and-fro.

Elrohir ran with some of the other boys at first, but as they went further from the den they separated to crouch inside hollow trunks, hide in the overhang of boulders, or to scramble onto the lower branches of some of the smaller trees, and soon he was running alone.

Eventually he heard the bubbling song of one of the small rivers that meandered along the base of the valley. In the distance he could hear voices calling and laughing, indicating that the chase had begun. Since the voices were coming closer, he looked around desperately for a hiding place. There were no convenient trees that he could shin up, and no bushes to hide behind.

Half scrambling and half falling down the bank to the river in his haste, he stumbled upon the perfect hiding place. The river had cut a small overhang over a patch of shingle, and he was shielded from view by the bank above him. Unless somebody chanced to follow his path down the bank they would never find him.

Secure in the knowledge that he would win this game, Elrohir lay silently on the shingle and waited.

~*~

"It is getting late, it is time I went home." One of the more responsible elflings said at last.

The game had long finished, and the chasing and tagging had resulted into a tickling match and rough and tumble that had filled the woodlands with shrieks and shrill giggles. Exhausted at last, the children had sprawled on the ground and flicked balls of grass or dead leaves at each other while chattering about all and sundry.

The sun was low in the sky by now, and the clouds in the west were becoming tinged with pink. Calling their goodbyes and joining up with their brothers and neighbours the elflings began to form groups to walk home.

It was then that Elladan found that he could not see his brother anywhere, and could not remember seeing him since they had run off in different directions at the start of the game.

He began by searching calmly, asking his friends whether they had seen his brother, but as everyone began to drift away he began to feel more and more panicky. Eventually he was left standing alone in the clearing, his shadow cast long by the fading evening light.

"'Ro?" Elladan called out uncertainly, turning around to look through the trees for any sign of his brother. "'Ro?"

There was no reply from his brother, and his voice seemed almost immediately muffled by the trees.

"Elrohir!" Elladan shouted at the top of his voice, the last note drifting like a birdcall across the valley. "'Ro!"

There was still no reply. Puzzled, Elladan sat down on the grass and hugged his knees. Elrohir would not have gone home without him, and if he had wished to stop playing he would have told somebody. Perhaps he had fallen somewhere, or got hurt. Or maybe he had got stuck. The thought of his brother lying injured somewhere made him feel quite sick. He could imagine being in the same situation himself, frightened and in pain, waiting for somebody to come and help him.

Elladan got to his feet and began running in the direction he had last seen Elrohir heading. He could not have gone far.

~*~

The last golden beams of the afternoon sun edged up the east of valley, leaving grey-blue dusky shadow behind it. The narrow stretch of shingle on the edge of the stream was in shadow by now, but the rich soil of the bank behind it was still illuminated with the orange-gold light.

The breeze in the valley was growing colder now, and the leaves in the trees were rustling uneasily. The air felt damp and muggy, and clouds were gathering in the sky.

The sun crept further up valley, and soon shadow was edging up the raw soil of the bank. The fading beams also lightly touched the face of a elfling as they passed, highlighting the sleep flushed cheeks, the half-closed lids with their long lashes, and the small pointed ear half covered with strands of dark hair.

Undisturbed, the boy slept on, and soon he was lying in shadow.

~*~

Elladan skipped and jumped through the woodlands, stopping occasionally to look around and to call for his brother. The woods were in shadow by now, the fresh colours dimmed into shades of blues and greys. As he looked around Elladan began to feel as if the trees were beginning to close in as him as the forest darkened. He could no longer see as far through the trees, and the faint lighting cast dark shadows of strange shapes.

"Elrohir!" Elladan shouted desperately, trying to fill the all too quiet woodlands with noise. "Elrohir, where are you?"

There was no answer, but the sudden gust of wind that rippled through the leaves suddenly left Elladan feeling cold, and he folded his bare arms together for warmth. He considered for a moment running back home, to the light and warmth, and getting his Ada to come and look for Elrohir with him. But Elrohir had always become frightened much more easily than him, and since he was feeling a tiny bit uneasy, Elrohir was bound to be terrified. He could not leave him in these woods alone.

With one last look back the way he had came, Elladan strode firmly into the woods.

"Do not worry, Elrohir." He shouted as loudly as he could to bolster his courage. "I am coming."

~*~

Elrohir woke as the first early spots of rain hit his cheek.

"Go away." He muttered, reaching out to pull an invisible blanket over his head. It was only as his cold hands failed to grip anything that he opened his eyes.

It was dark and starless, the deep blue of the sky obscured by thick black clouds. The trees loomed above him in solid midnight shadow, and even the stream had become little more than a noise in the darkness.

Sitting up rapidly and scrambling to his feet, Elrohir looked around him. He could see more than he had thought at first, enough to make out the stones he could use for footholds in the bank, and he could just see the white of the river as it rushed over the stones. Silently he turned his back on the river and concentrated on getting up the bank safely.

~*~

"Elrond, have you seen the boys?" Celebrian walked into the study, her brow furrowed slightly in worry. "I cannot find them and they did not come home for their dinner."

"They did not?" Elrond paused, his pen motionless above the paper. "Are they with Glorfindel?"

Celebrian shook her head and bit her lip. "He would have sent a message, surely."

Elrond quietly agreed with her, but it was wise to check.

"Why do you not go and find Glorfindel, and I will go and speak to some of their friends." Elrond got to his feet and gave his wife a hug and a kiss before reaching for his cloak and departing.

Celebrian nodded and swallowed. There was no point worrying as yet. The boys had probably got carried away in some game again.

Although they usually got hungry by this time. And they had never been overly fond of playing in the dark or rain.

~*~

The rain had started properly now, the thick clouds were black over the valley, and large raindrops pelted down through the leaves. The woods were filled with the drumming of rain on leaves and grass, and the air had the curious smell of rain on dry earth. Little was visible now apart from grey tree trunks through the darkness, and Elladan had to navigate mainly through the sounds of the distant river and the faint noise of his footsteps over the different terrain.

The rain quickly soaked through the rough weave of his tunic, leaving it clinging damply to his body. His dark braids had come undone, and wet hair clung untidily to his face. Even his moccasins were sodden.

"Elrohir?" Elladan called questioningly, hoping that his voice was loud enough to be heard over the noise of the wind and rain.

As much as he tried to ignore it, a treacherous little voice in his head was growing louder. His brother would not have gone home without him, would he? He would not be playing a cruel trick?

"Of course he would not!" Elladan spoke aloud in an effort to banish the voice. "He would never do that! Never!"

"No?" said the voice, "But I know someone who would."

~*~

Elrond shrugged off his soaked cloak and strode into the sitting room, where Celebrian had gathered with her parents, Glorfindel and Erestor. Celebrian immediately got to her feet, her face asking the question that she did not need to voice.

"No." Elrond shook his head and looked at the floor as he spoke, not wanting to see the reaction on his wife's face. "They have not seen them since they were playing hide and seek in the woods, and they all went home before sundown. I was told however that Elladan lingered there after the rest."

Celebrian sighed. Who knew what trouble Elladan had led his brother into this time.

"So they are still in the woods somewhere." She walked to the door, clearly meaning to get her cape, but Elrond caught her.

"Stay here, Cel." He looked down into her face. "It is wild outside."

Celebrian withdrew from his grasp. "My sons are out there."

"We will find them." Elrond reassured her, bending his head to kiss her. "They will not have gone far."

Celebrian looked as if she was about to object with a force inherited from her mother, but Celeborn intervened.

"You will stay here, Celebrian." He placed an arm around her waist and guided her back to the bench where Galadriel was sitting. "Someone must be here for the boys should they return early. I will go."

Glorfindel's lips down turned slightly, but since Celebrian had become quiet at the suggestion made not further comment. He too had no intention of allowing the Lady of Imladris out in such weather.

"I will come too." Erestor said eagerly and stood up, making for the door.

"Thank you, Erestor." Elrond smiled briefly, then turned to business. "Glor, shall you and I take the northern section?"

~*~

Elrohir stood in the middle of the forest, biting his lip as he fought back tears. It was dark, it was raining and he was going to be in so much trouble.

Worse than that, he was not even sure where he was any more. The woods looked completely different in the dark, and he did not recognise this place at all. When he had scrambled up the bank he had been a bit disorientated, but had set off swiftly in what he had thought was the correct direction, eager to get home before his Ammë got worried. But somewhere he must have taken a wrong turning, for he had neither reached the path back to the house nor any other sign of life.

The wind was whipping through the leaves of the trees in the canopy and drove sheets of icy rain against him. The woods were altogether too dark, and sometimes, out of the corner of his eye he thought that he saw a shadow move.

Shivering, he wrapped his arms tightly around his body, wishing that he had his cape with him. It would be hanging on the carved wooden pegs outside the sitting room right now, side by side with his brother's identical one, and flanked by his father's dark cloak and the light red of his mother's cape. The hallway would be warm and dry, lit by the golden glow of candles, and with long shadows cast up the pale walls. The candlelight would be streaming out of the windows - not much, but enough to see the paving of the terrace outside if you pressed your face right up against the window. And if he was home right now, he could be standing there, looking out into the night as he listened to the laughter and voices from the sitting room.

He would give anything to see the lights of Imladris now.

~*~

The eerie howl of the wind as it rushed through trees made Elladan jump and peer nervously into the trees around him. He knew that there could be no real danger here, for the Guard made sure that the woods inside the valley were free from dangerous animals or fouler creatures, but it was hard to remember that at times like this.

Unclenching his hands and wiping his sweaty palms on his tunic, Elladan concentrated on taking deep steady breaths, hoping to banish the lurking terrors from his mind. There was nobody in this woods except for he and his brother, and no animals more terrible than rabbits and foxes. He was just imagining things.

Another gust of wind whipped through the leaves above him, and Elladan imagined for a few foolish seconds that he could hear the calls and laughter of children from some long forgotten time.

"Elrohir?" He called, not really expecting an answer. "Are you there?"

There was no reply, but there was a rustle in the leaves somewhere in the dark to his left.

"Elrohir?" Elladan asked, panic making his voice high and shrill.

Heart beating wildly, he searched blindly on the floor for a stick or a stone. After a few endless seconds he grabbed at a large stick, the cold roughness of its bark digging painfully into his hot palms.

"Keep back!" He shouted, swishing his branch threateningly through the air. "I am not afraid!"

He stood in silence for a few minutes, listening for any other sound, but whatever it was had gone had it ever been there. Lowering his stick, Elladan set off again, marching through the woods.

"I imagined it." He told himself firmly, trying to whistle a tune to show any watcher just how not scared he was. "It was just the wind."

And then he came across the bush, its branches swinging parallel to the gusting of the wind.

~*~

Stumbling uphill, Elrohir reached up to wipe the water off his face with an equally wet hand. He no longer even pretended to himself that he knew where he was going, but as long as he headed up the slope then he would not be getting further from home. As he continued his face soon became wet again, more due to warm progress of tears than the icy raindrops.

He was sure that Ammë and Ada would have noticed that he was gone by now, it must be almost his bedtime. Elladan would be splashing around in the bathtub alone, warm and safe. And he, Elrohir, was lost in the woods alone.

His Ada would be searching for him, he was sure of that. He would never leave him to stumble about in the woods alone. Glorfindel would be with him too, and perhaps even his grandfather. His grandfather would never search for Elladan, Elrohir thought, with a malicious satisfaction which surprised him. But Celeborn was his, and anyway Elladan had gone home and left him. If he had found him and chased him back to the den, none of this would have ever happened.

~*~

Elrond and Glorfindel walked side by side as they methodically searched the woodlands. So many elflings had played here that any sort of tracking was worthless, and it was too dark under the trees to search by eye. Instead they wandered up and down the hillside, periodically stopping to call the children by name, but as yet they had had no response.

Eventually, on the fifth trip down the valley, Glorfindel broke the mutual silence. He had noticed his friends motions becoming more jumpy, and that the half-elf now spun round at every faint sound.

"We will find them, Elrond." Glorfindel placed a hand on Elrond's arm and squeezed. "They will not have left the valley, and they will be quite safe here."

As if to prove him wrong there was suddenly an ear-splitting rumble, almost simultaneous with a blinding flash which lit up the trees in shades of white and grey.

Elrond said nothing, and quickened his pace.

"They are not afraid of storms, Peredhil." Glorfindel commented, casting back his hood and turning up his face to the rain for a few moments. "They will be wet and cold and hungry, but they will not be scared."

Elrond stopped and scowled at the blond elf.

"But they could be hurt, or lost or in danger." Elrond kicked at the leaves on the ground moodily. "My sons are out here alone Glor, that is enough for me."

Glorfindel said nothing, and they wandered on in silence. It was true he was not a father. But that did not stop his anxiety about the pair. All he had wanted was to ease his friend's worry.

"I fear for Elladan." Elrond said at last. "He is so. . ."

Elrond trailed off, and licked his lips, trying to think of a way to phrase his thoughts.

"He is so young?" Glorfindel offered helpfully, with a slight hint of chastisement. "He will grow, Elrond. He is but a boy."

Elrond drew in his breath in a sharp annoyed hiss, "He may be but a boy, but so is Elrohir. And it is Elladan who will lead my people one day."

"And he will do it well." Glorfindel said blandly. "He takes after his father."

Elrond sighed and gave Glorfindel a slightly peeved look.

"It is not myself I see in Elladan."

So this was where the problem lay. Glorfindel brushed aside his prepared thoughts of similarity between father and son - from the scowl of displeasure to the steadfast loyalty - and tried to think of a suitable reply.

"It will be his choice, Elrond. And if you worried from now until he makes that choice, it will make no difference. It his choice, not yours."

Elrond glanced at Glorfindel and shut his eyes.

"I know."

~*~

Elladan fled down the valley, away from the bush and whatever had lurked there. He did not think that he could hear it following him, but it was hard to tell above the pounding of his heart and his gasping breaths.

He darted between the pale blurred columns of tree trunks, slipping and sliding on the wet leaves. A sudden boom of thunder his concentration from his footing, and he stumbled on an outcrop of rock above a hollow.

As he fell the sky lit up with a sudden flash of lightening, and on the top of the hollow he saw a dark figure watching him.

~*~

Elrohir paused beside a small hollow, catching his breath before continuing the climb up the hillside. Normally he would have run and jumped his way up the slope quite happily, but he was so tired by now that it was all that he could do to keep on walking.

Then, out of the silence, he heard running footsteps, and as a line of white light split the sky, he saw some black creature flying towards him from the top of the boulders.

~*~

"Aaargh!" Both twins screamed at one, two voices identical in their terror. Elsewhere in the woods four elves turned towards the source of the noise and began running. There was a petrified silence, and then a quavering voice spoke.

"Elladan?"

"'Ro?"

The twins spoke together and then, recognising each other's voices, ran towards each other and clutched at each other's bodies.

"I thought you would never come." Elrohir sniffed, his previous anger at his brother forgotten.

"Well I was not going to leave you, was I?" Elladan said with unqualified assurance. "Stupid."

"It was frightening in the dark." Elrohir shivered, and inched closer still to his brother. "I thought that I heard things."

Elladan huffed scornfully, "There is nothing here. Glorfindel and Ada would never allow that."

Elrohir shrugged with a happy little smile. "I was still scared. Let's go home."

Elladan picked up his stick, and together they began scrambling up the slope, talking about the food they hoped to eat when they got home. As they passed each tree, Elladan gave it a hearty thunk with his stick, the usual cheerful grin back on his face.

~*~

Celeborn tore through the trees, Erestor left puffing somewhere behind him. If anyone had harmed those children. . . or even dared to think of harming them. . . they would regret it before the night was through. To his surprise he was feeling this just as keenly as if it was his own child in those woods; and when he had heard that scream the hair on the back of his neck had stood up.

Finally he made out children's voices, and a sudden flash of lightening illuminated the woods, allowing him to see two small shadowed figures helping each other up the slope.

Sighing with the relief that had flooded his body at finding his grandsons safe and unharmed, Celeborn strode silently towards the boys, and plucked the nearest child off the ground. The elfling was cold and wet, and immediately began wriggling and squealing like a frightened piglet.

~*~

Gasping painfully deeply, Elladan leapt instinctively away from his attacker, stumbling onto the ground amidst the wet leaves. He could hear his brother squealing, too frightened to even take a breath deep enough to scream.

He wanted to get up and run, but his elbows and knees had become wobbly and useless and in any case, he could not leave his brother here with this monster. Tightening his grip on his stick, he struggled to a kneeling position.

"Go away!" He screeched, aware of how thin and young his voice sounded in the darkness. "Let him go!"

~*~

"No, no! It is me." Celeborn said soothingly, rocking the child up and down in his arms. This seemed to calm the elfling he held, but apparently had no effect on the one which scuffled on the ground, for the next second a stick thumped heavily across his knees with all the force that a nine-year-old elfling could muster.

Shouting something that would get Elladan banished to his room for a week when he repeated it at the next Midsummer feast, Celeborn stumbled forwards, nearly dropping Elrohir.

"Eru, child!" He groaned, holding out a hand to the little boy. "It is Celeborn. Your grandfather."

Elladan said nothing, still too shaken by the sudden attack to do more than flinch away from his grandfather. He had no desire to be carried by him.

"I can walk!" He managed to whisper.

Celeborn paid him no attention, shifted Elrohir onto his hip, and forcibly picked up his elder grandson. Left with no choice and realising the futility of struggling, Elladan wrapped his arms around his grandfather's neck and since he was being carried anyway wriggled into the warmth and dryness of the cloak.

Ignoring the complaints from his bruised knees, Celeborn began making his way back to Imladris. He did not have the heart to make further comments to his assailant - Elladan was quivering like a leaf in a storm, and he could feel the small heart pounding desperately as the boy leant against his chest.

"You found them!" Elrond burst into the clearing, the relief resonating in his voice. "Here, let me take one."

He gently shifted Elrohir into his arms and wrapped the small boy in his cloak. Elrohir immediately began crying.

"Hush now, I have you." Elrond buried his face into his son's wet hair. "You are quite safe now."

"You have them?" Glorfindel strode towards them, and seeing the two little figures clasped to the adults' chests, looked West and mouthed a silent prayer.

"We have them." Elrond confirmed, the smile audible in his voice.

"Good." Glorfindel walked over to ruffle Elrohir's hair, raising his eyebrows at Elrond as he felt the child jump nervously at the contact.

"Was it frightening in the woods?" Elrond put his arm securely around his son's back, and smiled at Glorfindel when the dark head nodded up and down against his chest.

"You know Elrohir, I was scared too!" Glorfindel teased, eyeing Elrond mischievously. "Whenever your Ada made one of those snorting noises of his, I was afraid that Asafloth had escaped from his stable and followed me all the way through the woods."

Elrohir was too tired to respond beyond a small smile, turning his face back into his father's cloak and when he was sure that nobody was looking, edging his thumb up to his mouth.

"Have you found them?" Erestor huffed through the last few trees, breathing deeply.

"Aye!" Glorfindel called cheerfully. "Safe and sound!"

"Praise to the Valar." Erestor said with a mixture of relief, and envy that it had not been he who had found them.

"My Elladan." Elrond walked over to Celeborn and rubbed Elladan's quivering back with a large hand. Moving his hand to Celeborn's arm, he squeezed slightly. "Thank you."

Somewhat surprised to find his half-elven son-in-law standing so close, Celeborn debated moving away, then wrapped his free arm around the half- elf's shoulders.

"They are welcome."

~*~

Walking back up the path to the house, Elladan shifted incessantly in Celeborn's arms, trying to find a position in which his constant trembling would be less noticeable. Eventually the older elf grew tired of this and in one smooth motion gathered up his cloak and wrapped the twin in the fabric, drawing his arms closely around the shaking body.

There was silence for a while - presumably while Elladan decided what to make of this strange turn of events - then he looked up at his grandfather.

"I am shivering because I am cold, you know." He said arrogantly, the dark eyes daring Celeborn to suggest otherwise.

Celeborn looked down into the little face, eyebrows raised. Suddenly he could remember Celebrian, blonde curls tangled from sleep and cheeks tearstained, insisting that she wanted to climb into his bed because she was cold, or thirsty, or both.

"That I know." Celeborn said at last. "Why else would I hold you?"

In the library, on the bottom two shelves of one of the bookcases by the doors to the terrace, Elrond kept several very old volumes. These were rare books indeed, and mostly came, or were copied from texts from the first age. He was not entirely sure why he kept them hidden away like this, out of most researchers' view. Had they been on any other topic, they would have been proudly displayed on the most frequently visited shelves in the centre of the library.

But maybe he did not want everyone to find these books. He would rather forget the memories than see reminders of them every day. Even so, it had not stopped his sons seeking them out, and there was still a small handprint on the brown leather of one of the covers.

~*~

Celebrian peeped in through the crack of the schoolroom door, on a detour from her path to her husband's study. To her relief both boys seemed to be quiet and were working hard, dark heads bent over the papers on the desk. Even Elladan was behaving - his feet hanging peacefully, and the grey feather of his quill in his hand - and he was listening to Glorfindel with a suitably interested expression. He was taking his resolution to show everyone that he was responsible enough to go hunting seriously.

Celebrian paused for a second, watching the blond elf's animated face as he spoke of the Valar and Maiar, before carrying on down the passageway to meet with Elrond. At times like this, when they were behaving and being polite and engaging, one might almost believe that the twins were themselves Maiar. But luckily, despite the rosy cheeks, long lashes and disarming smiles, most of those they had come across had soon learnt better.

"Now, do you remember who Eönwë is?" Glorfindel asked, unprepared for the immediate response. He was still getting used to the new, studious Elladan.

"He was. . ." Elrohir began calmly, only to be interrupted by Elladan's yell. The older twin's competitiveness on the practice fields had carried over to lessons, and the children now raced each other to learn lists of spelling words or give the correct answer.

"The banner-bearer and herald of Manwë." Elladan gabbled earnestly, then looked eagerly at Glorfindel for confirmation that his response was correct.

"That is correct, Elladan." Glorfindel smiled at both boys. "But you must remember not to cut across your brother."

Elrohir smirked at his twin. He had known that answer. It was not fair!

"Elrohir." Glorfindel warned.

Elrohir blushed and looked down at his paper again.

"Good." Glorfindel smiled at the child's head. Elrohir was finding it rather strange now that his brother was finally taking an interest in lessons, and the blond elf suspected that it hurt him that he was no longer special in that respect. Both twins felt the need to have things that were their own and nobody else's. He dreaded even imagining the fuss if he should suggest that Elrohir joined Elladan in practising archery with him. "Now what about Uinen?"

~*~

Glorfindel gathered the papers into a pile and shuffled them into some sort of order, knocking the edge against the surface of the table to bring the individual pages in line.

"You did well today." He smiled at the two little elves and nodded towards the door. "It is past midday already, hurry."

Elladan sprang to his feet, grinning in relief. He might be working hard and enthusiastically now, but he would never truly enjoy sitting still for long periods of time. He would probably sprint his way back home, jumping down any flight of steps, to make up for the long period of inactivity. The only reason he lingered in the room was to wait for his brother, who was still seated, apparently in suspended motion.

The younger twin sat in silence for a few seconds longer, ignoring Glorfindel's enquiring look and Elladan's impatient one.

"If the Valar really cared, would they not help us when we needed them?" Elrohir looked up at the pale arches of the ceiling, sucking the tip of his right index finger as he thought.

"They do help us." Glorfindel said absently. "Did they not create this beautiful valley and all the creatures and plants that live in it?"

"Mmm." Elrohir sucked his lower lip in slightly. "They made things, but they do not help the things that they have made. There are evil things, and plants and animals get ill and die."

"Well," Glorfindel sighed and ran one hand over his hair, "They have come to help us. Do you not remember me telling you of the War of Wrath?"

"Yes. . ." Elrohir paused, obviously uncertain of himself. "But they only sometimes come. When you and Ada went with Gil-galad to fight Sauron, they were not with you then."

"Not in body, no. . ." Glorfindel began only to be interrupted by Elladan.

"Perhaps they did not come because they were too busy arguing about what they should do, that by the time they had decided the battle was over?" The older elfling suggested, thinking of the times he had waited in vain for his father to come out of a council before sundown.

"Do not be silly." Elrohir said scornfully. "Nobody could talk for that long, not even Erestor."

"Well," Elladan said hotly, "Maybe the Valar did not come to help because they did not know."

Elrohir looked at his brother and sighed, rolling his eyes, "Stupid! The Valar know everything. They watch over us all the time. I bet Manwë is watching now and thinking how stupid you are."

Elladan flushed angrily and was only prevented from leaping at his brother by Glorfindel reaching over his shoulder, and pressing a large hand against his chest.

"Well. . . Manwë would not even bother to think about you! You are far too insifig. . . insifan. . . unimportant!" Elladan took a deep breath and continued before Elrohir could protest. "Maybe they did not know that people wanted them to help. If I wanted the Valar to help me, then I would go and ask them to!"

Elrohir shut his mouth, thinking over this before attempting a response. Seeing that Elladan was satisfied enough at having temporarily silenced his brother to forget the previous insult, Glorfindel took advantage of the silence to pick up the papers and bottle of ink.

"Aye," Glorfindel smiled and ruffled the elfling's hair as he walked out of the room, "That is what your grandfather did."

With the blond elf gone, the twins looked thoughtfully at each other for a while, the room silent except for the distant sound of the wind in the leaves outside. They had heard little about their paternal grandfather, and thought about him even less. Now he had been elevated considerably in their interest.

At last Elladan broke the silence and darted out of the door, signalling the start of the race with a joyful yell.

"See! I take after Ada's Ada!"

~*~

"Ada!" Elrohir asked at last, causing his father to look up with a smile. Both twins had been fidgeting impatiently since the start of the meal, showing little interest in the plates that had been set before them, and he had been waiting to hear the reason.

"Yes, Elrohir." Elrond smiled, hoping that whatever it was that they were excited about would not take up the whole afternoon - the valley was busy at present and he had much to think about.

"Am I like your Ada?" Elrohir asked hopefully, and watched him earnestly for a response.

Elrond froze, swallowing a large lump of potato in his surprise, and began coughing. Celebrian calmly began patting him on his back while handing her youngest son his napkin, which had been forgotten on the sideboard in his hurry to get to his meal.

"Am I?" Elladan asked loudly, leaning forwards over the table to reach for the tomato preserve, which he heaped liberally onto his plate.

"Not too much, Elladan." Celebrian warned, removing the small glass dish from his hand and placing it out of reach. "And make sure that you eat all that now."

"I will Ammë." Elladan smiled at his mother and carefully layered a slice of meat over the tomato preserve. "Am I, Ada?"

Elrond was looking troubled, toying with a piece of carrot as he thought. He had not expected these questions so soon. Not so unexpectedly. He had been planning to bring up the topic for a while now, a few years in fact, but somehow something else had always got in the way.

Truth be known he could not remember enough of his father to tell what traits had been passed on to his sons.

"Well," Elrond ventured, bringing his hand up to touch his forehead, "You are both boys."

The twins looked disappointed at this hardly scintillating piece of information, and he began to feel even more awkward. He should be able to remember something. He could name half a dozen things that either twin did that would remind him of Maglor or Gil-galad, after all.

Seeing her husband's distress, Celebrian broke in brightly, "You both remind me much of my Adar."

The twins turned to her, half interested and half frustrated that if was not their father speaking.

"You, Elrohir." Celebrian nodded at her younger son. "When you get cross you have always looked exactly like Adar; and you Elladan, when you are concentrating hard you bite your lip just like my Adar."

Elladan made a mental note never to concentrate hard again, and stabbed his knife through his meat, letting the sticky redness ooze from the gash.

Elrohir acknowledged his mother with a smile, before turning back to his father.

"But what about your Ada, Ada? Am I like him?"

Elrond sighed and looked down at the untouched food on his plate, mashing down on a piece of potato with his fork. He did not want to admit it, but he would have to.

"I do not know."

~*~

Elladan drew his sword carefully from the sheath at his side and held it out in front of him, twisting it so that the sunlight glinted from the blade. He should be overjoyed today, considering that they were returning to sword drills after three days with the bow, but strangely he almost missed the concentration and rhythm of archery. But he would get to practice archery tomorrow with Glorfindel anyway.

One of the larger boys passed him with a nudge that almost knocked him from his feet, and Elladan was startled out of his daydreaming. His attacker was standing with a group of others a small distance away, looking at him and laughing.

Flushing slightly, Elladan turned his back on them and walked away to hide in the shade of one of the tall ash trees that bordered the glade used for training. He could hear whispers behind him, but he had no intentions of taking on Culrómen again, so he pressed his lips together to prevent them wobbling and held his head as high as he could manage.

~*~

"Partners?" Andúnë, Elrohir's friend from the riverbanks turned to him with a smile.

"Partners." Elrohir grinned back and they clapped their left hands together to show their bond, a trick that Andúnë had read about in some tales of bravery and battle.

When the training master called out for them to commence they fell into their usual routine, and Andúnë raced to occupy their favourite training spot under the shade of the largest of the trees, while Elrohir queued to claim and set up their target. This method worked extremely well, and they had been able to keep 'their' place for the whole of the summer.

The lesson soon got underway, and after watching the training master demonstrate a move, the elflings lined up in pairs and began shooting.

"Shall you go first, or shall I?" Elrohir asked, stepping back to allow Andúnë to come to the front if he wished.

"Mmm." Andúnë screwed his face up in thought. If he went second then he would look bad after Elrohir's attempt, but if he went first then Elrohir would look all the better for going after him. "I shall go first today, and you go first tomorrow."

"All right!" Elrohir smiled and sat down cross-legged on the warm grass and picked a few blades to weave them together into a plait. It was pleasant sitting here, watching Andúnë while listening to the birds singing in the branches above him. Soon his turn would come as well, and he would be able to demonstrate his improvement over the past few weeks. His Ada had been very pleased with him lately, and he was sure that the training master would be too.

~*~

Elrohir lowered his bow, and looked at the position of the arrows on the target, his lips curving into a delighted smile. All had hit within the inner three circles and two had even reached the centre. He loved archery.

"That was well done," the training master came over to his side and smiled down at the eager face. The younger son of the Lord of Imladris had undoubted talent with the bow, and he could not help feeling triumph for the child. He had known the twins since they had been small bouncy elflings hardly able to stand in line for long enough to participate in the youngest training group, and he had always felt sympathy for little Elrohir.

He could remember dozens of times when the child would summon up enough courage for his first dive, or would run as fast as his chubby legs could manage, or climb as far as he dared - beating all the other elflings - only to be overshadowed by his braver, quicker and noisier brother.

Occasionally he wondered what the future held for the child. He held the potential to be a great warrior, one of the most formidable that he had yet seen, but somehow he doubted whether that would be the path that the boy would choose to follow.

Elrohir was more fond of chasing butterflies than hunting orcs and dragons.

~*~

Elladan was sitting alone on a log, resting his head in his hands as he watched the patterns he had traced in the dirt with his foot. His shoulders were slumped miserably, and his fingers were spread across his face and forehead, hiding his face from any prying eyes. Although most of the other boys were gathered around a large rock quite some distance away, talking and laughing as they munched apples and biscuits during the break, he made no effort to join them.

"Hello."

Elladan looked up at cheerful voice, wondering how he had missed hearing the light footsteps approach. Iorwë was standing in front of him, bending his head to try at look at him. He was holding a large oatmeal biscuit and was smiling eagerly, one hand playing nervously with the edge of his tunic.

"Would you like to share my biscuit?" Iorwë smiled again and broke the biscuit in two, offering Elladan the bigger half. "It is very nice. Nana made it."

The older elfling sat up properly, and looked at the smaller child again. As far as he remembered Iorwë usually played and snacked alone, sitting cross-legged under the birch tree and digging a stick in the dirt. He had always assumed that the younger child had liked the shade, and nobody had made any effort to get him to join them.

"All right." Elladan said suspiciously, taking the smaller half. He was glad to have a snack, for someone had taken his apple from where he had left it beside his towel, and he was hungry. "Thank you."

Iorwë beamed and scrambled onto the mossy surface of the log to sit down beside Elladan. His legs were still too short to be able to rest them comfortably on the ground, so instead he kicked them against the dark moist underside of the log.

"It is nice, isn't it?" Iorwë said happily, nibbling the edge of his half of the biscuit away, unaware of the crumbs that he was dropping down his front.

Deciding that Iorwë meant no harm, and pleased to have a friend again, Elladan smiled. "It is very tasty."

Iorwë flushed with pleasure, and kicked the log extra hard, before smiling hopefully.

"I think that we should be friends."

~*~

It was a sweltering afternoon, far too warm for the elflings to even wish to think of much running around, and the attempts to stir up enough enthusiasm to play 'Fish Nets' were doomed to failure. The children sat on the riverbanks, dangling their feet in the water and occasionally splashing each other with the cool water.

Clothing dried fast on a day such as this, and some of the more daring boys stripped off their tunics and immersed themselves in the water, bemoaning the fact that the river was not deep enough to swim in. As yet, they were too young to be allowed to the bathing pools without adult supervision, and all the boys' parents were feeling far too warm and lazy to oblige their son's whims.

Elladan and Elrohir, however, were far away from the river and meadows. They had a favoured hiding spot for days such as this, and the moment that they were released from training they had headed towards it, walking slowly due to the heat of the day.

Being sons of Elrond had certain advantages, especially when it came to accessing areas where they would not normally be allowed. While they were not technically permitted to swim in the plunge pool of the waterfall, if they perched on the rocks close to the torrent of water and sat quietly, most elves would turn a blind eye to their presence.

It was gloriously cool here, and the spray and splashes from the torrent of water soon drenched their tunics and soothed their hot and sticky skin. Leaving their moccasins on the shingle, they scrambled up over the rocks to perch on a narrow ledge, almost behind the flow of water. They could make blurry shapes out through the sheet of water, and they could whisper secret plans without risking anyone else overhearing.

As usual the twins settled quickly on their ledge, and after reaching cupped hands into the torrent to capture and drink some of the icy water, they curled up together to talk.

"I wish we knew what Ada's Ada looked like." Elrohir lay on his back, watching the water gush down above him.

"Well, even Ada does not know." Elladan picked up a small pebble and threw it through the screen of water. "We look like Ada, so Ada probably looks like him."

"Mmm." Elrohir did not look convinced. "We do not look like Ammë. Not much anyway."

"Well, we would not, would we? I am not a girl." Elladan said matter-of- factly, and was not surprised when his younger brother ignored him.

"Perhaps we could look in the library?" Elrohir suggested thoughtfully.

Elladan sighed and rolled his eyes at his brother, "I know that Ada has lots of really old things in there, but I do not think he has his Ada locked up inside."

Elrohir gave his twin a filthy look and rolled onto his hands and knees to begin the scramble down to the shingle.

"Books. There will be a picture of him somewhere."

~*~

Elladan pelted down the hallways, arms pumping rhythmically and hair flying out behind him as he ducked under arms and leapt over obstacles. People hurriedly stepped out of his way, giving him looks ranging from sheer annoyance to tolerant amusement.

Elrohir followed at a slightly slower pace, giving apologetic looks to those who had had to move aside, and pausing to help pick up some spilt potatoes.

"Hurry up, 'Ro!" Elladan called in an exasperated voice, pausing at the top of a flight of stairs and looking back to watch his brother's slow progress. To his extreme frustration Elrohir had stopped and was holding a door open for a mother with a baby. "Slow as a snail!"

Elrohir gave his brother a scornful look, and allowed the elf to pass through before chasing after his twin who had long disappeared along one of the passageways.

~*~

When Elrohir at last came across his brother again, he was waiting impatiently by the door to the library, hopping from foot to foot as he awaited his twin.

"You took your time!" The older twin elbowed himself up from where he had been leaning against the wall, and stepped forwards to meet his brother.

Elrohir ignored this potentially threatening gesture and ducked to the side, walking into the large room. "You could have always come in here first."

Elladan shrugged and followed his brother in. He had never felt truly comfortable in the library as Elrohir did, it was too quiet, and he disliked the musty smell of books and papers.

"I was waiting," he whispered with a smile.

Elrohir returned the smile, and then wandered among the shelves to some of the oldest volumes.

"We are looking for anything about Eärendil." The child pinched the bridge of his nose in an expression much like his father's, and turned back to peruse the books. "Oh and Mariner. I heard someone call him Mariner."

The twins sat on the floor at the base of the bookcases, reading and flipping through pages with fervent haste. They did not escape surprised or strange looks from the other users of the library, but they were so absorbed in their task that they barely noticed the exaggerated sighs and irritated huffs as people stepped over or around them.

"Here!" Elrohir looked up at last from where he was hunched over his book, "There it says here that he sailed to Valinor with Elwing, Ada's Ammë."

Elladan dropped his book and crawled over to Elrohir's side, looking with as much interest as he could muster at the old text - his research had quickly come to involve only flicking from picture to picture, rather than attempting to decipher the old and faded text.

"It does not show what he looked like." The disappointment was palpable in Elladan's voice.

Elrohir huffed and turned back to the pages, "It might be here somewhere. . ."

His voice trailed off as he got side-tracked in a long passage describing his grandfather's bravery and valour. Sadly it did not look like he took after his grandfather at all. He would never have had the courage to sail off into the unknown and address the Valar. He would never have been unselfish enough to forsake his own people for the good of all those in Middle Earth.

Getting bored of waiting for his brother, Elladan returned to his own book, slamming it shut and then opening it at random pages, figuring that this should work equally well as proper research. Since the illustrations were painted on parchment slightly thicker than the normal pages, this worked remarkably well, but being Elladan he would probably have continued even if the trial had proved fruitless.

"Look!" Elladan crowed in delight, earning him several evil stares from hard working counsellors. Continuing in a quieter tone he wriggled over to show the book to his brother. "It is us!"

"It is not a very good picture of us. We never wore tunics like that." Elrohir said dismissively, and peered at the two identical boys in the picture, his eyes travelling down quickly to the caption at the bottom. "It is not us, it is Ada."

"Oh." Elladan elbowed his brother out of the way to peer again at the book. Two pairs of painted grey eyes looked back at him from the page, one face smiling hesitantly and the other beaming proudly. "Why are there two of him?"

"Well, you're not letting me see!" Elrohir snapped, trying to tug the book from his brother's hands. "It will say somewhere."

"I cannot find it." Elladan wrinkled his nose and let his brother have the book with only the faintest attempt at perusing the cramped page of text for information. Elrohir would find it - he liked doing such things.

"There!" Elrohir said excitedly, pressing his index finger against the page and beaming at his brother. "Ada was not just Ada. Ada had a twin brother just like you, his name is Elros."

Elladan frowned and muttered, "Just like you."

He would much rather be like his Ada than the elusive Uncle Elros.

"Mmm." Elrohir barely responded as he eagerly read the pages. "It says that Elros was younger than Ada."

"See, he is more like you." Elladan persisted, bending over the picture once again. "See, Ada is smiling like me, but Elros is being all shy like you."

Elrohir smirked at his brother and tapped his finger triumphantly on the parchment, "Actually, Elros is the one who is smiling. I am more like Ada."

Elladan looked crushed and fiddled miserably with the narrow drawstring of his right moccasin. Feeling sorry for his twin once he saw how much his face had fallen at this news, Elrohir patted his shoulder gently.

"I bet that really we are both like Uncle Elros in some ways, and like Ada in others. We can be north and south, and Ada and Uncle Elros can be east and west."

"All right!" Elladan smiled suddenly and pushed the book over so as to allow his brother to have his full half. "Race you to find more about him!"

~*~

Elrond and Glorfindel wandered into the library, smiling at the site of the elflings crouched on the floor surrounded by books. The hour had grown late, and they had been concerned when the children had not scampered home to demand food, but somehow they doubted that the twins would have managed to lose themselves so soon after the last frightening episode.

It was more likely that the twins were the cause for Erestor's soft grumbling.

The sky was getting dark by now, and the lamps in the library had been lit, filling the room with golden light. Elladan was obviously growing tired of research by now, for he had snuggled up to lean against his brother, and his dark hair had fallen across his face and he had made no effort to brush it away. As they watched he yawned widely and let his open book slip off his lap.

"There you are." Elrond smiled as he walked towards them, secretly proud and pleased to see how intently Elrohir was absorbed in his book. It was a difficult text but his son appeared to be reading it with ease and enjoyment. "Do you not want your supper?"

"Supper!" Elladan beamed and sprang to his feet, hastily shoving his book back into the closest empty spot on the shelves. "I am starving!"

"Ada!" Elrohir put his book back in its place and ran across the room, his arms open wide for a hug. "We were reading."

"Indeed?" Elrond easily picked up his younger son and strode across the room to look at those books that still lay open on the ground. "What were you reading?"

"About your Ada." Elladan said proudly, skipping up to his father and hugging him tightly around the waist, which was as high as he could reach. Elrond ruffled the child's hair, holding his son's head against his body for a moment.

"My Ada?" Elrond raised his eyebrows slightly. The twins were apparently far more curious about this than he had counted on.

"Yes." Elrohir wrapped his arms around his father's neck and burrowed his face into his father's hair. "And you. . ."

"Me?" Elrond interrupted in his surprise. "Could you not have asked?"

He had always answered his sons' questions fully and honestly, at least he thought he had, and he could find no reason that Elladan, certainly, if not both of the twins, would turn to books to find answers.

Elladan tugged urgently on his father's sleeve and the moment the Lord of Imladris looked down, piped up eagerly, "When can we meet Uncle Elros?"

Glorfindel slipped quietly from the room.

~*~

Elrond tidied the discarded books, carefully rearranging the volumes into the correct order, before answering Elladan's question.

Eventually he pushed open the glass paned doors to the terrace and led his boys out into the dusk.

The night was warm and the air smelt of the roses blooming in the gardens below. The sky was a rich deep blue - he had once marched under banners of that same colour - and a lone star glimmered above the dark silhouettes of the Misty Mountains.

Kneeling down and putting an arm around each child's back, Elrond nodded towards the far off light.

"Let me tell you a tale of my father. . ."

"And Uncle Elros?" Elladan persisted, backed up by Elrohir's vigorous nodding.

Elrond gave them a bittersweet smile, ". . . and my little brother."

The fields of Imladris were fertile and green, and easily kept the people of the valley fed and content, even through the harshest winters. However many other plants also thrived there - bright wild flowers, hedges of hazel and honeysuckle, and many different types of berries. In the early autumn he would often see elflings carrying small wooden pails running about among the hedgerows gathering blackberries, or moving slowly about the southern slopes filling their pails and mouths with bilberries.

In the summer though, with the fruit not yet ripe, the bushes were more likely to be raided for missiles. His sons had spent many happy hours as children bombarding each other with hard little unripe blackberries, or kicking and throwing sour hard apples to and fro.

~*~

Elladan leapt from stone to stone, his arms held out for balance and his braids flying out behind him. The grass was long and lush down in the borders of the meadows and he could pretend that he was a warrior or a horse master from the great plains of Rohan.

Large flat stones were placed at periodic intervals along the narrow path that ran alongside the hedges between the fields of ripening corn and grain. In the winter it would often become wet or muddy on these busy paths, and the elves that worked in the fields were glad of solid footholds to step between.

In the late summer though, the stones lay dusty in the dry dirt and worn grass. They were too far apart for an elfling to walk comfortably on them, but just close enough together to enable a child to leap between them with a reasonable degree of challenge. The gold of the wheat fields stretched out to the left, and on the right the hedgerows were full of reds and blues of wildflowers and sharp-tasting under-ripe blackberries.

Elrohir had picked a tall stem of grain and carried it as he followed his brother, heading towards the corner of the field where a large oak grew. The golden head of wheat swung close to the tips of the blades of grass, tickling some of them into motion. He loved afternoons like this, with the sky so large and so blue, and the sun warm on his head and the back of his legs.

"Beat you!" Elladan chirruped triumphantly, scrambling onto a high wooden stile that stood in the shade under the oak tree and swinging his legs in the air as he awaited the brother. Since it was so dry, and they did not have lessons that afternoon, the twins had elected to go barefoot on their adventures.

They had delighted in paddling in the icy waters of one of the tiny streams that fed the Bruinen, and had wriggled their toes in the drying mud at the edges of one of the pools from which they had collected tadpoles in the spring. Now though, their feet were dry and dusty from chasing each other through the cornfields, climbing the tall thin birches that stood along the south path and playing leapfrog in the tall grass.

"I was not racing." Elrohir handed his stem to his brother for safekeeping as he scrambled to join him on the weathered wood of the stile, then retrieved his toy.

"I was!" Elladan grinned at his brother and hooked his knees around the top bar of the stile and let himself swing down until his fingertips were just touching the ground. "Bet you cannot do this!"

Elrohir looked down at his brother's pink face then smiled mischievously. Elladan's eyes widened in curiosity, but he did not suspect what his Elrohir intended until he began twitching the end of the wheat over his bare stomach.

"No!" Elladan giggled and tried to pull his rumpled tunic up over the exposed patch with one hand. "Nooo!"

Elrohir giggled too and leant over to tickle his brother's chin and the end of his nose. The elder twin batted at the head of wheat, then sneezed loudly. Laughing, Elrohir let himself tumble down to the soft grass, dragging his brother with him.

"That was not fair!" Elladan complained good-naturedly, sitting up and brushing off grass seeds from his rumpled tunic. Elrohir smiled at him and leant back against the lowest rung of the stile.

"You should not be so ticklish!"

"I am no more ticklish than you!"

Elrohir widened his eyes, and gave himself a little secret smile.

"I am not!" Elladan grabbed at his brother and they tumbled over in the grass for time, bubbling with laughter, each trying to prove that the other was more ticklish. Eventually they grew tired of the game, and still doubled over with laughter they scrambled back to perch on the fence.

They sat in silence for a little while, each twin occupied with his own thoughts, but eventually Elrohir spoke up.

"Do you think that Eärendil was watching us then?"

Their father had spoken to them about their grandfather last night, and they had stood for a while on the terrace, watching his progress across the darkening sky. At first they had been confused and disbelieving, but now, once they had had a chance to talk about it amongst themselves they were intrigued and a little bit proud.

While the other elflings might have a grandfather who would teach to ride ponies, or slip them special treats between meals, it was quite something to have a grandfather who had pleaded for the peoples of Middle-earth before Manwë himself. Truth be known, Elladan was secretly a little bit relieved that his grandfather would be little more than a star in his life. One grandfather was quite enough for him.

"It is early yet." Elladan screwed up his eyes and peered into the sky, searching for any hint of his grandfather's ship. "Perhaps he is still in bed."

"But then he will only ever see us sleeping." Elrohir said with dissatisfaction. "He must get bored if all he ever sees is us going to bed and getting up in the morning. Maybe he will get tired of watching us."

Elrohir sounded so worried that Elladan began to frown. It would be many, many years before they would be old enough to stay up all night, like the other elves. Even when they began their training for the guard, they had heard Glorfindel say that he often interrupted the young soldier's parties to send them to bed. By the time that they had anything interesting to show their grandfather, he would have surely got bored of waiting for them to do anything but sleep.

"Ada would not get bored of us, so neither would his Adar." Elladan said firmly. He was not entirely sure that he was correct, because everyone knew that Adas and Ammës were very special and would love you no matter what you did, but he wanted to think that at least one grandfather cared about what he was doing.

"Maybe. . ." Elrohir smiled in relief. And if Celeborn did not think he was boring, then surely Eärendil would not either. He paused to trace a circle around a knot in the wood, then spoke timidly. "I wish that Uncle Elros had not died."

Elladan nodded sadly. They had both enjoyed the tale their father had told them about him, and dearly wished that they could meet him. Having an uncle would be just like having a second Ada, one who would play with you when your Ada was locked away in councils or was having a special quiet time with Ammë. And Uncle Elros had sounded so brave and bold and so fun.

He would probably even like him. Uncle Elros could never be a boring grumpy lord like his grandfather. . .

"Ada must really miss him." Elrohir wrapped his hands around the edge of the top rung and leant back, hanging from his hands. Life without your brother there beside you was not very fun at all. "He must get so lonely."

The twins fell into silence as they remembered the few days that they had spent apart. The idea of the separation extending for months or years was unthinkable.

"Elrohir. . ." Elladan bit his lip as he thought. After his brother had fallen asleep he had talked with his Ada a while longer, and while he had discussed most of this with his brother as they had washed this morning, there was one thing that bothered him. "Ada said that we could choose whether to be elves or men too."

"Yes," Elrohir turned to face his brother, looking hard at the identical face. "You told me, remember."

"Yes. . ." Elladan kicked the lower beam of the stile with a satisfying thunk. Last night, when he had declared that he would be an elf when he grew up, he had assumed that Elrohir would be one too. He had to be. They did everything together. But this morning, when they had talked of it, Elrohir had not said anything.

He thought that maybe, if Elrohir wanted to be a man, he might be a man too to keep him company. Although he would miss Ada and Ammë and Glorfindel so much, he thought he would rather be with Elrohir than with them.

"Elrohir. . ." Elladan paused uncertainly, sucking in his lower lip. He had always made the decisions for the pair of them, and the thought of Elrohir making a different choice scared him for more than one reason. "We will both choose the same, will we not?"

Elrohir hauled himself back to a sitting position, and looked at his brother seriously. "You do not want to be a man?"

They had not yet met many men. They had heard stories of the Last Alliance and a part of the histories of men, but only though the voices of elves. Occasionally Glorfindel or Erestor would talk with their Ada about mortal visitors or men from Gondor, but they had seldom seen them. The only two that they knew to any extent were the strange wizards that were staying with them - but neither was eager to venture into the same room as Curunír, for he had proven himself not over fond of elflings.

Mithrandir, they had come to love, for he would often create small spells for them. Once there had been a tiny fire-breathing dragon made of smoke to fly above their soldiers, and another time he had created tiny golden butterflies for them to chase through the twilight. He would even play with them in the garden, allowing them to bring their small blunt swords up against his great blade.

Even so, the idea of becoming a man was preposterous. They had seen Mithrandir place his hand on his back and sigh, or complain of his aching knees as they climbed back up the steps to their home. They had played with the skin on the back of his hand, tracing wrinkles with a finger and marvelling at how slow it was at springing back when pinched. Men were hairier, shorter and stockier than they were, almost as if they were trying to be in-between elves and dwarves. They had had great fun examining Mithrandir's beard, but neither one wished to grow one of their own.

"No!" Elladan's voice became high-pitched in its relief. "I shall be an elf, I just wanted to be sure that you would be too."

"Oh." Elrohir smiled at his brother. "Of course I shall be an elf, silly. I want to be with you and Ada and Ammë and Glorfindel for ever and ever. Why would I want to be a man?"

Elladan shrugged, then smiled brightly and launched himself at his brother, and for the second time that day the twin sons of Elrond were rolling round in the grass, cheeks pink with laughter.

~*~

Celebrian strolled back along the path through the beech trees, enjoying the coolness of the green shadows and the sound of the nearby river. She was returning from visiting a young elf that had just been blessed with her first child, and she was still smiling from the laughter they had shared at the infant's wondering expression.

The baby was feeding well and its spirit was strong. Although children were becoming rare now amongst elves, even in the refuge of Imladris, she was glad to see that they were no weaker than a child of earlier times. She always visited the families blessed with babies, bringing gifts of blankets and small garments, and the tiny elves were invariably pink cheeked and cuddly.

Her own boys had been a little more worrisome. They had not expected them so early, and for a long while they had been rather small and pale. She had worried about them then, and had once or twice cried for the healthy twin sons that she had wished for. But in time they had grown bigger and stronger, and their pale faces had become tinged with pink. By that first summer they had been crawling along at great speed, tugging themselves up against trees to attempt a few wobbly steps, and babbling happily all day. Now, although they remained slightly small for their age, they were among the brightest and bubbliest elflings that she had ever met.

"Ammë!" A joyful shout caused her to pause and look behind her to find her two sons racing barefoot down the track.

"Ammë." Elladan said breathlessly, slipping a small warm hand into hers. "We picked you some flowers!"

"Here." Elrohir danced over to his mother's side and handed her the small bunch of daisies, cornflowers, cowslips and wild geraniums that they had gathered. "I found that pink one there, see."

"And I found the biggest cornflower!" Elladan bounced on the tips of his toes to point out the bloom.

"They are beautiful." Celebrian knelt down to hug her sons to her, being careful not to damage the bouquet that she held.

"We were playing in the meadows." Elladan smiled at his mother as she picked some grass seeds and bits of twig from his hair. "And we chased minnows in the stream. . ."

". . .and we climbed the tallest birch tree, and saw a pretty blue butterfly. . ." Elrohir continued easily where his brother left off, without either of them really noticing.

The twins continued to talk excitedly as they carried on along the path, smiling happily and looking up at their mother as they described their day. As they skipped up some steps, the twins dragging their mother after them, Celebrian caught sight of her father wandering among the trees.

"Adar!" Celebrian beamed and detached her hand from Elladan to wave enthusiastically at her father. "Adar!"

Celeborn turned and spotted his daughter and wandered over with a smile.

"Celeborn!" Elrohir beamed at his grandfather and let go of his mother's arm to race towards the Lorien elf, arms held wide, ready for a hug.

Celeborn knelt down to hug the elfling then stood up and swung the child up onto his shoulders. Sitting proudly on this high seat, Elrohir held on tightly with one hand and waved at his brother with the other.

"I am taller than you! I am even taller than Ammë!" He wove his fingers into Celeborn's braids and peered down at his grandfather. "Am I taller than Ada now, do you think?"

Celeborn smiled and gently made the child's bare heels knock together. "I should think you are quite a bit taller than him. You could probably reach down and pat him on the head."

Elrohir laughed at this and wriggled impatiently, obviously eager to get back home and look down upon elves that he normally saw little of but their boots and leggings. "I am taller than Ada, Ammë!"

Celebrian laughed and waved at her younger son, then turned to the older twin. "Elladan, come along."

Elladan was standing rigidly, fists clenched at his sides, wearing his all too familiar stubborn pout. It was not fair. They had been having lots of fun together and now his horrible grandfather had come along and spoilt it. He did not feel happy or special anymore, just like an unwanted shadow of his brother.

"Adar is waiting for us," Celebrian knelt down on the path and nodded towards her father, who was waiting patiently for them, heedless of the impatient drumming of heels against his chest. "It is time for tea. Are you thirsty?"

Elladan ignored the proffered hand and looked unhappily at his grandfather, then turned back to his mother. Standing in the beams of sunlight that filtered in through the trees Elrohir and Celeborn looked golden, shining and perfect. They had no need for someone very small with a rumpled tunic, standing with dirty feet that were becoming cold against the stone path.

"I am not thirsty at all, Ammë." Elladan shook his head vehemently and did not meet his mother's eyes. "May I keep playing instead of coming for tea?"

Celebrian sighed and looked hard at her son. She had never known her sons to come back from playing anything less than hot and tired and hungry and thirsty. Both boys needed their glasses of fruit drink and oatmeal biscuits at snack time. If she let him go and play, when he did come home he would be cross, starving hungry and extremely irritable. But she did not want a sullen little face glaring at her across the table, and if Elladan was forced to do anything, tantrums usually resulted, whether he was tired or not.

"Very well, but do not go beyond the birches." Celebrian leant over to kiss his forehead. "And come back in time for dinner."

"Yes, Ammë." Elladan nodded sadly and scuffed his bare toes in the worn grass that bordered the path.

Celebrian got to her feet and stroked his head. "Are you sure that you will not come with us, my little bee?"

It had been a long time since she had used his baby name. As a tiny child, Elladan had crawled or toddled from place to place at great speed, into everything and everybody. Once Glorfindel had pointed out the similarities with the large furry bumblebees that flew from bloom to colourful bloom, and she had got tired of pretending to be offended, the name had stuck. They rarely called him that now since unlike his brother, he did not like being reminded of his babyhood. But somehow she felt that he needed that familiar comfort today.

Elladan hesitated for a moment, dearly wishing that he could be Elrohir, perched on his grandfather's shoulder and laughing as he reached for the little green beechnuts.

"No. No, Ammë. I am not thirsty." The child's cheeks went red and his eyes fell guiltily to the floor at this lie, but Celebrian appeared not to notice.

"Be good. Do not get into trouble." Celebrian ruffled his hair once more and picked up her skirts to run over to her father.

Elladan slunk into the trees and watched as his mother reached her father and joined them in their golden bliss. Celeborn had put his arm around her and she had leant her head against his shoulder. Then she had realised that this meant that he was only holding onto Elrohir with one hand, and laughing at his daughter's horror, Celeborn resumed his grip on his grandson's squirming knee.

Just before they turned to leave, Elladan saw his Ammë say something to Celeborn, and they had both turned to look at the spot where he had been standing on the path. His grandfather had worn a rather strange expression, and if Elladan had not known that he could not possibly be seen through the trees, and that his grandfather did not care whether he lived or died, he would have thought that Celeborn could see him and wished to come and speak to him.

Then the party turned and began making their way up the path, their voices and laughter floating behind them on the breeze. Elladan sat at the foot of one of the beeches for a while, thinking. Then as he heard strange voices coming closer he scurried off into the forest, planning the games he would play.

~*~

"Here we are." Celeborn wandered over to where Elrond and his chief councillors were standing to allow Elrohir to tap them lightly on the head, then swung the gleefully giggling elfling down to the ground. "Now are you hungry?"

Elrohir beamed and hopped from foot to foot as he watched the biscuits and glasses of lemon drink with eager eyes. Then as Celeborn caught his daughter's eye and noticed the small filthy hands and grimy face, the elfling was grabbed from behind and slung over a large shoulder.

"I think that we should go and wash our hands." Celeborn lowered his voice to a whisper and shot a mischievous look at his daughter. "Before your Ammë notices and tells us off."

Elrohir grinned conspiratorially at his grandfather and for once forgot to object that his hands really were clean. Although they would have to hurry: Glorfindel had been invited, and if Elrohir did not watch him then the blond elf might well eat all the biscuits before anyone else had had a chance to reach them. It had happened before. . .

~*~

Elladan swung a stick half-heartedly at a small clump of mushrooms that he had found. They were not good to eat, or he would have tasted them for he was very hungry. His mouth felt dry and parched and his stomach kept rumbling unhappily. Everything about him was hot and sticky and he just could not find the spirit to play.

It had looked fun, sitting on Celeborn's shoulders. He would have liked to scramble up there and see if he could pick the ripest cherries, or try to touch the clouds. His grandfather was not the kind of person who would drop you, or go too fast for you to really enjoy it. Iorwë had a grandfather who took him riding and had made him a special little chair that was just his size, and despite his declaration that he had a Glorfindel and did not need a grandfather, he had begun to feel as if he might be missing out on something.

Perhaps with twins there was not enough grandfather to go round, especially since they had only one they could meet. Perhaps if they visited Aman one day, his other grandfather would like him. Although by then he would probably be boring and old and they would just sit around sipping drinks and talking, instead of doing anything interesting. But there was no harm in saying hello.

Feeling rather silly, Elladan looked around both ways to check that nobody was watching, then waved up at the sky. He did not know if Eärendil was watching, or would even care if he had seen, but he felt better for having done it.

Smiling a little, Elladan began making his way back up through the woods to his secret place. If he passed the spring on his way then he could at least get a drink of water and wash his dirty hands and feet, although that would do nothing for his hunger.

~*~

Elrond glanced around the table, checking that all his guests had enough to eat and drink. Celebrian was talking animatedly with her mother about babies - baby girls that she could make pretty things for, and teach to dance and embroider. Quickly averting his eyes before he was required to make any hasty decisions regarding the future size of his family, Elrond turned to Glorfindel who was demolishing a pile of biscuits with little regard to the anxious young face watching him.

Elrohir's eyes grew steadily larger as each biscuit was devoured, and he munched as quickly as he could on his own snack, hoping to finish it while a second helping still remained. Taking pity on his youngest, Elrond offered the plate around then set it down at his son's elbow - far from even Glorfindel's long reach.

Elrohir beamed at him, but the effect was lost as Elrond was already looking around with bewilderment for the elder twin.

"Where is Elladan?" He asked at last, having found no sign of the child anywhere in the vicinity. He had never known his son to willingly miss a meal before now. The elfling should have been sitting beside his brother and chattering happily about his day to anyone who would listen whilst wolfing down his snack.

"He was not hungry. He wished to play a little longer." Celebrian explained calmly, her eyes telling her husband that there was yet more story to tell. "He promised not to go far."

"Not hungry? Is he unwell?" Elrond's brow furrowed with concern. Both his sons were apt to sample berries before they were fully ripe, and sturdy though the stomachs of elflings were, they had occasionally given themselves stomach aches or upsets through sampling too many unripe blackberries or green plums.

"No, he is fine." Celebrian smiled at her husband, indicating that they would discuss it further later. She had no desire to embarrass her poor father further, for Celeborn was already looking awkward and his cheeks had flushed slightly. "He is probably hiding down in the gardens somewhere."

~*~

Elladan leant back against the aged gnarled trunk of his tree in the little hollow where he had made his den. There was a patch of bright green wood sorrel growing close by, and he had picked a few leaves to nibble on. Their sharp citrusy taste was refreshing after the icy spring water, and they made him feel as if he was at least eating something.

There was thick moss on the ground, which was surprisingly comfortable for a sleepy little elfling. Elladan curled up in the patchy sunlight and rested his head on his folded elbow. It was so warm here, sheltered from the breeze, and he was so tired. He tried to stifle a yawn, then settled back down as his eyelids began to droop.

~*~

"Elladan."

The child woke to find his father kneeling over him, speaking his name and gently shaking him.

"Ada." Elladan instinctively reached out to put his arms around his Ada's neck and let himself be lifted into his father's arms.

"You are a sleepy little elfling." Elrond wrapped both arms around his son, tucking dark hair back behind a pointed ear. "You were fast asleep."

"Was tired." Elladan yawned and leant his head against his father's tunic. "I am hungry."

"Aye." Elrond sat down and let Elladan crawl into his lap. "You did not come for your snack. Were you not hungry then?"

Elladan hunched his shoulders and wriggled uncomfortably. "He was there, Ada. Nobody wanted me."

Elrond raised his eyebrows slightly at the venom in the word 'he', but concentrated on the rest of the muttered comment.

"I wanted you. I could not see my Elladan anywhere." Elrond placed an arm across the child's chest and drew him close. "I had to come looking for you."

Elladan could not fully disguise his pleasure at this and pressed his cheek closely against his father's chest, but battled valiantly to retain his troubled look.

"But you did not wait for me. It will be all gone." Elladan said with real sadness.

His father smiled and shook his head, then reached behind the tree to fetch two beakers of juice and a couple of oatmeal biscuits. "I wished to eat with you."

Fortunately the drink was not spilt as Elladan gave his father a giant and heartfelt hug, and soon the little elfling was gulping down the cool liquid like one who had been dying of thirst. Elrond put his arm around him and waited until he was finished and they were both enjoying their second biscuits before speaking further.

"Was Celeborn nasty to you?" Elrond sounded so kind and understanding that Elladan was tempted to lie, in order to get his sympathy and another cuddle.

"No." He said a little uncertainly, appearing to concentrate very hard on nibbling the slightly browner edge from around his biscuit. "It is just. . ."

Elrond raised an eyebrow inquiringly and rubbed his son's back soothingly.

"Just that. . ." Elladan bit his lip and looked at his father sadly, then spoke quickly. "They did not want me there. Celeborn is never nice to me."

"Did anyone tell you that you were not wanted?" Elrond asked gently.

Elladan squirmed and looked doubtfully at the ground. "No. . . but Ada, they were all having fun together. I would have just spoilt it."

"Nonsense." Elrond pounced a large hand onto his son's stomach and tickled until he was squealing with laughter. "It is more fun when you are there too. Poor Elrohir had nobody to talk to, and Glorfindel nearly ate all the biscuits without anyone there to race him."

Elrond widened his eyes impressively at the word 'all', making his son giggle appreciatively.

"It was just that. . ." Elladan buried his face in his father's lap, and spoke with a muffled voice. "Just that. . . Celeborn was playing with 'Ro, and nobody was playing with me."

"Did that look fun?" Elrond sighed and placed a hand on his son's shoulder.

Elladan nodded, still not daring to look up at his Ada.

"Did it make you sad that Celeborn would not play with you?"

Elladan shook his head viciously and whipped his head up to declare angrily, "No! I did not care!"

Elrond nodded understandingly. "Aye. . ."

The elfling's cheeks flushed, and looking anxiously at the moss on the forest floor he muttered, "Well, maybe I minded a bit."

"Have you tried being nice to Celeborn?" Elrond drew back the curtain of dark hair to look at his son's face. "You might find that he is quite nice after all."

Elladan hesitated and gave his father a woeful look.

"It cannot hurt to try." Elrond smiled and got to his feet, helping his son up as he did so. "Come, why do you and I not practise with our swords before dinner?"

It meant that he would fall behind with the paperwork that he had meant to complete, and that a meeting with Glorfindel would have to be cancelled, but it was worth it for the smile that Elladan gave him.

"Yes!" Elladan bounced into the air to give his father a huge hug. "Please. Thank you, thank you, Ada!"

Elrond paused to retrieve the empty beakers from a small nook among the oak's great roots, and then looked down at his son, a playful grin already forming on his lips.

"What about if I race you. . ." He arranged one beaker on top of the other so that it involved a certain degree of concentration to keep them balanced. "If I let this beaker fall, you shall win."

Elladan's face lit up with a huge smile, and he was only kept from darting off by his father's hand on his shoulder.

"Ready?" The father and son looked at each other and nodded at the same time. "One. . . two. . . three. . ."

Throughout the latter half of that summer, Elrond had continually come across small piles of pebbles in the garden, divided into heaps of grey shale and white quartz. His sons had fetched them from the base of the streams and rivers that ran down the valley, and then, with their hands and feet drying in the sun, had sat on walls or paths and had played some complex game of Elrohir's invention.

He had enjoyed watching the pair, curled up over their playing pieces, faces solemn in thought. Usually it had been Elladan who would initiate the games - usually involving the twins charging through the gardens, or leaping from walls or trees brandishing sticks - but that summer Elrohir had begun bringing the worlds of his books into their play.

Not that the initiation of gentler, more thought based games had always managed to spare the younger twin hurt.

~*~

The air outside in the gardens was still cool and the grass under the trees was still damp with dew, but the breeze was dry and there was no mistaking that it would be another hot day. As usual for such summer mornings, Celebrian was out in the gardens, enjoying a few moments of solitude before her sons rose.

The few moments had become rather extended today. She had risen early, soon after her husband had been woken and summoned to the infirmary, and had been out in the gardens ever since. She had wandered down to the bridge and back - through the training fields where the younger soldiers were training, and past the dairies and orchards. Then with the clang of metal on metal behind her, and her hunger eased by a couple of ripe red apples and a cup of milk, she had proceeded to the family's gardens.

She had spent a while examining the plants for signs of disease or pestilence, and plucking up a weed here and there, before gathering some flowers for the breakfast table, and heading home. As she passed up the steps, well satisfied with her excursion, something caught her eye. A small figure was sitting on the wall of one of the flowerbeds, head in hands, and a battered training sword discarded at his feet.

Recognising the disgruntled silhouette as that of her elder son, Celebrian wandered slowly through the gardens to meet him. She had been down in the rose garden, picking flowers and watering the dry soil. She loved the earth and the things that grew in it, and although she did not hold her mother's powers, she could tend earth with love. Since her coming to Imladris the gardens had thrived.

"What ails you, Elladan?" Celebrian set down her basket on the wall, removed her thick leather gloves and placed them among the pale pinks and creams of the petals. She sat down on the wall and rubbed a finger softly against the child's cheek, ignoring the way that he had hunched his shoulders as she approached.

"Nothing." Elladan mumbled grumpily and smeared a tear from his face with his fist. It was not fair. Now Ammë would think that he had been crying, but he had not. He had not cried at all when his Ada had not come, or even as he had watched the sun rising higher and higher in the sky, but now that his Ammë was being so kind, his eyes were stinging.

"Nothing?" Celebrian asked gently, and put an arm around the elfling's stiff shoulders. "Then may I sit with you, for I cannot find your Ada, and I am lonely this morning?"

Elladan leant his head against his mother's body and sighed deeply, struggling to keep control of his tears. "Ada did not come, Ammë. I have been sitting here and waiting and waiting, but he did not come."

Celebrian smoothed some of the child's rumpled hair, and wiped a few stray tears from his face. "He did not mean to leave you waiting, I am sure. . ."

Her son looked at her questioningly, his face clearly displaying the thought that if someone did not turn up then they obviously meant to leave the other waiting. He had got up especially early to be ready for his Ada for sword practice, but his father had let him down.

"Ada was called away, Elladan." Celebrian tried to tidy the child's unbrushed hair, and spoke gently. They rarely told their sons of the injuries that were treated in the infirmary, and so far they had managed to protect their sons from knowledge of the worst that happened outside the valley. "Some scouts returned from the wild, and Ada was needed to make them better."

"He is taking a long time about it." Elladan grouched, slightly mollified by his mother's explanation, but unwilling to forget his long and lonely wait.

"Yes, it takes a long time, I know." Celebrian cuddled him closer to her body. "Sometimes, when I want to be with him, he disappears off to the infirmary, and I have to wait for him to come back. I get bored, and feel upset and angry because I think he has forgotten me."

"But he has not forgotten you, Ammë." Elladan said earnestly, looking at his mother in surprise. "He just has to heal people first."

Celebrian's face lit up with a rather mischievous smile, but when she spoke her voice was kind and understanding. "I know, Elladan. But sometimes I get frustrated anyway."

Elladan bit his lip and looked at his mother dubiously, then tentatively offered, "I really wanted Ada to come."

He let his hair fall across his face as he spoke, a sure sign that he was ashamed or unhappy about what he was saying. In the last few years it seemed that Elladan had decided that it was a sign of weakness to cry, or want his parents.

Celebrian nodded with a slight grimace, and gave her son a final squeeze before speaking brightly. "Perhaps we can practice without your Ada being here."

Elladan's ears pricked up at this, and he looked eagerly at his mother, his voice full of anticipation. "We can? How?"

Celebrian smiled and got to her feet. "My Ada once taught me a little of fencing."

Elladan's eyes widened as his mother picked up the sword that he had brought out for his father, and gave it an experimental swish.

"It is heavier than my own was, of course." Celebrian frowned slightly as she tried a few strokes. "But I am sure that we will manage."

"But. . ." Elladan paused, halfway to his feet, and clearly flummoxed. "But. . . you are a girl!"

Laughing at the scorn in her son's voice at the final word, Celebrian rested the tip of the sword on the ground. "Yes, but my Ada taught me a little fencing. Not the use of swords in war, but instead to move with them, like dancing."

"Oh." Elladan frowned for a moment, then smiled. If his Ammë was suggesting it, then it was sure to be all right to fight with a girl. "Will you show me then, Ammë?"

~*~

Celeborn wandered silently out to the terrace, moving carefully to avoid disturbing his still sleeping wife. He stood for a while at the edge of the terrace, resting his weight on the balustrades, and enjoying the cool fresh air. From this vantage point he could see down the entire length of the valley - his eyes following the curving path of the river as it wove between fields and forests, lingered in pools, and rushed down waterfalls. The morning mist was fading now and melting into the treetops as the morning sun grew in strength. He could faintly smell the greenness of the woods, and the sweet scent of the honeysuckle and climbing roses that wound their way along the lower terraces.

This valley was beautiful, and although he sorely missed his daughter in Lorien, and would have dearly loved to see his grandsons grow up there, he was glad to see that they were safe and enjoying themselves. Although the trees were younger here, and the river's song did not hold the beauty of that of the Nimrodel, there were still glades to play in and trees to climb. Most of all, his daughter was happy here, and that was enough for him.

Looking down into the gardens, he could see Celebrian standing on the lawn with one of the twins, practicing fencing. They appeared to be teaching each other moves, for first one would instruct and the other copy, and then they would exchange roles. It felt a little strange to watch his daughter learn the craft of war, but they both seemed to be enjoying it. Merry laughter was drifting up to the house, and both figures were relaxed and happy.

Feeling suddenly lonely, Celeborn returned to his room and silently put on his shirt, leggings and tunic. That done, and his face washed and hair braided, he carefully slipped back out onto the terrace and proceeded down the steps into the garden.

As he got closer he could hear their breathless comments and he could see the laughter in their flushed faces. As he watched his daughter tuck her hair back behind her ear for the fifth time, Celeborn smiled slightly. She was obviously wishing that she had braided it back into two tails, as she had done as a playful elfling.

"No, like this Ammë." The child said patiently, and gently placed his hands against his mother's arm to guide her. "Like this."

Celeborn grinned at the careful measured tone of the voice, and the preciseness that the elfling demanded. Elrohir was such an organised child, and would be a good teacher one day.

"No, no." There was a flurry of dark hair as a small head was shaken vigorously. "No, Ammë. You must come down like this."

Smiling, the Lord of Lorien sat down on the wall of the flowerbed, and watched as Celebrian duly obeyed her son. They continued a while longer without noticing their watcher, repeating the exercise until it met with satisfaction.

"That is right!" The child shouted at last, and looked up laughing. "That is just right, Ammë."

As the child's happy eyes met his, Celeborn realised with a jolt that it was not Elrohir, but Elladan. Now he could see the child's face, even with the patchy shadows of the leaves being cast down upon it, it was obvious which twin it was. He had been so sure that it was the younger boy from the relaxed silhouette and ready smile. He had quickly come to associate Elladan with hunched shoulders, sulky postures, and scowls.

Not that it was difficult to tell now, for the child appeared to have frozen in position, and was giving him a particularly black glare. Noticing her son's sudden silence, Celebrian turned round, and beamed a welcome to her father.

"Adar! Good morning." Celebrian placed a hand on Elladan's head and stroked his hair gently. "We have just been practicing sword work."

"Aye, I saw." Celeborn tried to avoid comparing the two expressions as sunshine and thunderstorms, and smiled pleasantly at Elladan. The thought that his presence could make a happy, laughing elfling into a sulky, unpleasant little boy disturbed him. "Good morning, Elladan. You are doing well."

Elladan stared at him for a few moments, then his glare turned into a scowl, and he maintained an obstinate silence. With an apologetic look at her father, Celebrian nudged her son slightly. There was no response at first, but as the awkward silence lengthened and Celebrian nudged him again with eyebrows raised warningly, Elladan reluctantly met his grandfather's eyes.

"Good morning, Lord Celeborn." Elladan said defiantly, and when his mother looked up at the sky with an exasperated sigh, pulled a horrible face at his grandfather.

Wincing slightly at the emphasized 'Lord', Celeborn ignored the uncannily accurate orc impression, and turned his attention to Celebrian who was still dressed in leggings and tunic from her morning walk.

"You must be ready to change. It is nearly breakfast time." He nodded up towards the house. "You go. I shall finish practicing with this one."

Celebrian hesitated uncertainly. While she felt that it would do her son good to spend some time alone with his grandfather, she did not feel it was quite fair to leave her father alone when he did not fully know what he was getting into. He hardly knew Elladan, and clearly had little idea of how much stubbornness and resentment one little elfling could hold. But the sight of her husband making his way dejectedly along the terrace changed her mind, and with a grateful smile at her father, she handed him the sword, and began hurrying up towards her room.

Elladan's eyes followed his mother all the way up to the terrace, at which point she disappeared around the corner of the house. Then, reluctantly, he looked back at his grandfather, his grey eyes challenging.

"Well, shall we start?" Celeborn adjusted his grip on his sword, and tapped the end of the blade lightly against the ground. He had noticed a few weaknesses in the child's defence, but perhaps that was not the best place to begin. "I have seen that you move your feet well. There is a special move that we have in Lorien, that perhaps you are ready to try."

Elladan did not respond, merely maintaining the stubborn silence, but Celeborn was almost sure that he had seen a spark of interest in his eyes.

"Why do I not show it to you, and then you may decide?" Celeborn suggested, carefully watching the child. "It looks simple, yet it is quite difficult to manage. But it is very useful."

The child still did not respond, so feigning indifference, Celeborn tapped the flat of his blade against the toe of his boot. "Or maybe you are a little tired for that. Maybe we should go through the defence drills."

Elladan's scowl deepened. He wanted to see the new move badly, for his father had often told him of the skill of the soldiers of Lorien, but to do so he would have to speak. And defence drills were so very boring - he much preferred the excitement of attacking.

"I am not tired." He said hastily, and then realising that this sounded rather sullen, added rather more pleasantly, "Please show me?"

Wisely hiding his smile, Celeborn carefully demonstrated the move, at first slowly with commentary, and then more quickly, describing how it could be used in battle. When he turned his attention back to his young grandson, all traces of sullenness had vanished, and the eyes that were following his every move were bright and eager.

"Would you like to try?" Celeborn asked, and when he was answered by a slight preoccupied smile, knelt down beside the child. He had previously dismissed the boy as having a short attention span, but now he could see the grim determination and total concentration with which the child approached the task. He even appeared to have forgotten who was teaching him in his eagerness to master the move.

"I go. . . and then. . . and after. . ." Elladan bit his lip as he tried to replicate the actions of his grandfather's sword, talking to himself as he moved his sword through the air. "And then. . . then. . ."

"This way." Celeborn gently touched the child's arm to direct him. "Then lunge. . ."

Elladan nodded absentmindedly, and followed his grandfather's instructions, muttering softly to himself.

"There, that is the move." Celeborn smiled in satisfaction as the child completed the sequence. "Well done."

To his surprise, Elladan did not smile or show any sign of happiness at his achievement. Instead a slight frown grew on the child's face, and he returned his sword to the starting position. "I am too slow. I need to. . ."

The elfling drifted off into silence as he began repeating the move, occasionally looking at the older elf for guidance, but gradually getting faster and faster. Celeborn could not help feeling a burst of pride as he watched the boy improve. However poor he was at archery, he certainly had a talent with the sword. Some of that, at least, must have come from him. Strong and skilled though Elrond was, he did not relish the fight as his son seemed to, and only marched into battle reluctantly.

Eventually the chiming of a distant bell made Celeborn realise how time had run on, and he disturbed the child from the self-imposed chase for perfection.

"Come now, Elladan. It is time for breakfast."

Elladan grunted a response and continued his practice, all his thoughts still focused on the invisible foe.

"Elladan." Celeborn put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "It is time to eat."

The elfling shook himself slightly, and turned around with an expression of irritation of surprising vehemence. "I am not hungry. I will just. . ."

"I am hungry." Celeborn said with a hint of amusement. "And I may not leave you here alone."

Elladan looked at him with a scowl, and the Lorien elf was almost sure that he could see all the old hatred flooding back. "But I do not want to!"

Celeborn clenched his hands into fists, and tried to avoid the exasperation he felt showing itself in his face or voice. "Your Ada and Ammë will not let you practise out here alone, will they?"

Elladan gave him a grim look. Why could they not see that he only needed a few more minutes and he would be finished? He was hungry too, but he just needed to finish this first. But if he disobeyed the instructions then he would not be allowed to practise out of training sessions for a week. Recently his father had come to trust him to fetch the weapons from the chest by himself, and he did not want to lose that privilege. Sighing, he spoke sulkily. "No."

"Then will you not come with me? I do not wish to cause you trouble." Celeborn spoke through gritted teeth, but fortunately managed to sound reasonably calm.

Elladan scuffed the toe of his moccasin against the ground. The grass was wearing off this patch of lawn after the hours of practice, and lack of rain, and he could grind bits of caked earth into dust. It was so unfair. When he was grown up and had children, he would let them practise all day if they wanted to. And they would be able to eat in the garden instead of having to sit still for hours, and watch their parents eat ever so slowly.

"But I am not finished." Elladan sighed deeply then sheathed his sword and started stomping up the garden. "All right! I am coming."

Breathing out in relief, Celeborn shifted his own sword to a more comfortable position, and got to his feet. His long legs easily caught up with the elfling, and soon they were walking side by side.

"Thank you," Celeborn smiled down at the frustrated child, ignoring the ominous pout. "I did not fancy telling your mother that I had left you alone down there. She would have eaten me for breakfast!"

The child did not even smile at his grandfather's joke, but he did grunt slightly, which Celeborn decided to take as an acknowledgement.

"Perhaps, if you are not busy after the mid-day meal, we could practise a little more before you go to training?" Celeborn suggested mildly, trying to make it sound as if he was asking the child a favour. He had enjoyed the short time they had spent together rather more than he had expected, and wished to make peace with the child as soon as possible. Although the boy still reminded him painfully of Celebrian as a child, even this short glimpse closer had made him aware how very different they were, despite the similarities. Teaching this elfling was entirely different from teaching a happy butterfly that wanted him to share her joy in each new lesson and skill. In fact, of late, the sadness he felt at his daughter leaving Lorien had been rather overshadowed by the thought of all he had missed in his grandsons' childhood. "There is a defence move against this attack, that you may learn if you wish."

Elladan's face lit up with delight and he bounced up the steps, before remembering to hide his pleasure at the suggestion, and speak grumpily. "All right. If you want to."

Celeborn stopped to admire some bright blue flowers in order to hide his grin. "Aye, that would suit me."

~*~

Celebrian smiled in relief as her son and her father arrived at the breakfast table, both in one piece and smiling, if rather late. Deciding that it was better not to press the matter of timing or state of clothing, and that it would not be wise to upset whatever precarious headway Celeborn had made with her stubborn son, she handed one grubby hand a glass of milk, and the other a mug of hot tea.

At the sight of his eldest son, the Lord of Imladris adopted a rather guilty expression. He had been so absorbed in trying to stop the wounded man's bleeding that he had entirely forgotten about his promise to his son. While the child looked quite happy, he could imagine the hurt the elfling must have felt at being left waiting.

"Ai, I am sorry, Elladan." Elrond shook his head in regret. "I was called away, I should have sent a message."

He could remember one time when he had been very small, and someone had tempted him with an offer to be shown around the great library. He had turned down a prospective sailing trip and a picnic to sit for hours by a locked door, watching the light outside fading into darkness. The stars had come out by the time that someone had come to fetch him.

"It did not matter, Ada." Elladan was surprised at how easily it was to forgive his father, and how good it felt to have his father smile back at him. "I fought Ammë."

"You did?" Elrond's brows arched up, and he gave his wife a questioning look.

Celebrian gave him a teasing smile. "As I remember, you have seen me wield a sword before now."

"Aye. . ." Elrond grinned at the memory. "It was not something that I easily forgot."

"She is quite good you know, Ada." Elladan folded over his slice of bread and honey into a sandwich, and took a large bite. "But she fights like a girl."

The adults laughed at this, and the twins looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Their parents always found perfectly normal statements amusing, but never laughed at good jokes or things that they found funny.

"I have heard a rumour that you might find training rather exciting today." Elrond grinned mischievously at his sons who had both turned eagerly to him. "Although, naturally, I cannot remember why."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, each racking their brains to think of what the exciting thing could be. It might be horse riding, but they usually did that in winter, when the water was too cold for swimming. Maybe they would be going on a camp or a ramble. The next youngest training group had once gone on a weeklong hike into the foothills of the Misty Mountains, and had climbed up a steep ravine - a far cry from the small rock walls that they scaled in training. Or perhaps they would be having an especially exciting event on the next free afternoon.

"Why?"

"Why, Ada? Why?"

"Is it camping?"

"Is a dwarf coming to show us how to use axes?"

"Will we be using boats?"

"Do we get to use javelins and spears?"

"Please, Ada?"

"Please?"

Elrond laughed at the jumble of excited voices, and looked conspiratorially at his wife. She shook her head, causing sighs of disappointment from her sons.

"Very well, I shall not tell them." Elrond said with a secretive smirk. "Although I can tell you that it will not be javelins, or spears or axes. You can get into quite enough trouble with a sword and a bow."

Elladan's disappointment at this was rather greater than Elrohir's. While the younger twin was quite happy with mastering his current two weapons, Elladan was always eager to try out new techniques and equipment that he had seen the soldiers using. In any case he wanted to redeem himself for his less than stellar start at archery by shining with some new weapon.

"But," Elrond smiled reassuringly at his son, guessing what had caused the sudden look of anxiety, "the wind has whispered to me that some of the youngest training group will be starting with daggers, come Midwinter."

The twins looked at each other with sparkling eyes, and Elrond's guilt faded. He normally tried to avoid telling the twins things that they would not know, except for his position as Lord of Imladris, but in this case he felt justified. They would have guessed when they got knifes for their Midwinter's gift anyway, and they would soon realise that they would not be able to practice archery when the gales and snow showers whipped through the valley.

"Daggers!" Elladan's voice rose with excitement. "Will you show me, Ada?"

Celebrian sighed as the conversation at the meal table once again turned to weapons and battles. While it was gratifying to see the males of the family talking so animatedly, and getting on so well, sometimes the boys' current obsession would get a little wearing. She had enjoyed the days when they would discuss the ducklings on the pond, the bluebells in the woods, or the colours they wanted in their quilts.

~*~

"Elladan, will you sit still!" Glorfindel snapped at last, tired of trying to compose a report on the last scouting expedition while trying to ignore the constant drumming of heels against the bench. Both twins seemed extraordinarily wriggly today for some reason, and even Elrohir had taken to tapping his quill against the inkpot unnecessarily loudly.

Elladan's feet came to an abrupt halt, and he bit his lip as looked up anxiously at the blond elf, ignoring for once Elrohir's triumphant look at the scolding. He had been working through the problems that he had been set, so he thought it was rather unfair that the Balrog slayer was reprimanding him for just a little knocking. "But Glorfindel. . ."

The blond elf narrowed his eyes as he looked at the child, the temper that had been brewing inside him since morning training coming close to breaking. The young soldiers had been particularly obtuse this morning, and some were even becoming stubborn and mutinous. Then he had been landed with this report, which would have been difficult enough to write even without the constant disturbances of the young twins. With his luck he would be cooped up in this study all day, crossing out and rewriting sentence after sentence.

"Yes, Elladan?" Glorfindel asked with exaggerated calm, pacing like a caged animal over to the desk at which the twins worked.

Elladan's eyes widened anxiously, and he bent back over his work, scribbling anxiously. "Nothing, Glorfindel."

Noticing the way that the child had hunched his shoulders defensively, Glorfindel sighed in exasperation. He should not take his own frustration out on the children. He moved to glance at Elladan's work over the child's shoulder, a little worried by the way the child tensed.

"Good work." Glorfindel said at last, and then as Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other in relief, headed for the door. "I must go and see Erestor. Be good."

The twins looked at each other questioningly as the blond elf slipped out of the room with urgent speed, then eager not to provoke their tutor further when he was in this mood, turned back to their problems. They did not wish to have to finish them tonight, for they had heard their parents quietly discussing boats this morning when they had thought nobody was listening.

They were still working in silence when the door opened, and Erestor wandered in with a bundle of papers. On seeing the twins sitting alone, heads bent earnestly to the desk, he paused and raised his eyebrows over the mound of books and documents.

"Are you all alone?" Erestor looked around the room, and peered suspiciously at the twins. "Is Glorfindel not here?"

Elladan glanced up at the elf, and spoke rather scornfully. "I cannot see him."

Elrohir shot him a disapproving look and smiled at his father's chief counsellor. If Ada heard of them being rude to his counsellors and friends, then they would be in so much trouble. "We do not know where he is, Erestor. He left a while ago, seeking you."

Smiling back at the cherubic face, Erestor forgot his displeasure at the elder twin and set his papers down on the muddle of Glorfindel's desk.

"Well, I have not come across him, and I have been in my study." He sat down in Glorfindel's chair and stroked his chin. "Perhaps I should wait for him."

The sons of Elrond looked at each other rather dubiously, then returned to their work with a renewed vigour. While Glorfindel might overlook a few unfinished problems, or assume the answer that was half illegible under a blot of ink to be correct, they knew that Erestor would no sooner do so than he would betray their father. Since they had been working on these problems for quite a while, their only hope of escaping extra work was to keep quiet enough to avoid their papers being inspected.

Finally, with the bells for midday about to chime, Glorfindel slipped back into the room and smiled at the twins, who were just finishing up. Thankfully they had remained quiet and well behaved during his absence. "Good work, boys."

Elladan grinned in relief and anticipation of the afternoon's events, and put his quill down, leaving a doodle of a Lorien soldier half finished. He could not wait to rush through his meal and hurry down to the gardens to practice with his grandfather. He had been thinking about the move during breakfast, and he was sure that he knew how to block it.

Unaware of his brother's plans, Elrohir finished tidying his paper and gathered up both elflings' work, and handed the pages to Glorfindel.

"We have finished." The voice was a little too worried and eager to please, so Glorfindel ruffled the elfling's dark hair and ignored the large scribble on the front page. A long walk in the gardens had proved soothing to his uneven temper, and now he regretted snapping at the boys.

"You have done well. Run along now." The blond elf smiled at Elrohir, and opened the door to allow him to pass through. "Elladan, I shall see you this evening?"

Elladan smiled and nodded happily. He was looking forward to his archery lesson with Glorfindel, and he had heard some of the other elflings talk of tricks that he had not yet seen done. The blond elf usually obliged him in demonstrating the moves that he asked to see. Unfortunately though, he would never agree to teach them to him, instead insisting that he learn to complete the drills perfectly and with confidence before moving onto fancy tricks and gimmicks.

"Good." Glorfindel shut the door after the elfling, and leant back on it with a sigh, only then noticing the dark figure sitting in his chair. "Erestor."

The chief counsellor's name came out as more of a groan than a greeting, and Erestor smirked slightly.

"The children told me that you were looking for me. I am sure that it was to discuss the turnover of wools and cloths."

~*~

Elrohir leapt down the steps, looking around for his brother. He had just finished reading an exciting book, and he could not wait to discuss it with his twin. It had given him several ideas for quite wonderful games to play, and he had already gathered some white and grey pebbles ready to start.

"Elladan!" Elrohir called, darting in and out among the trees in his search. He had thought that Elladan would be on the grass, for he had said that he was going to practice some sword work - but perhaps the sun had proved too bright, or maybe Ada had had to go back to his study by now.

He would have to find Elladan soon, or they would not have time to play before they had to get ready for training. His friend, Andúnë had told him that Ildruin, the master in charge of the training for elflings, would be coming to speak with them, so they would have to be especially tidy today. The sound of the clang of swords made him change direction and skip through the trees, towards the noise. He hoped that his twin would enjoy this game, although it was maybe not as active as the ones that they usually played. It had sounded so fun in the book.

"Elladan. . ." Elrohir called joyfully, then halted suddenly, his handfuls of pebbles falling to the ground with a rainfall of small thuds. Elladan was standing next to Celeborn, scowling slightly as the older elf explained something or other. Swallowing hard, Elrohir stood stock-still and watched them. His grandfather was even smiling, and appeared to be enjoying himself, despite the fact that he was hot, sticky and rumpled. Dust and dirt were sticking to the knees of his leggings, and his braids were coming undone, as if he had been playing for quite some time.

The younger twin bit his lip as he watched them, his mind racing. It made no sense. Celeborn was his, not his brother's. It had meant so much to him to be special, and to be the one that his grandfather liked best. He had been passed over so many times.

He had heard his grandfather call his brother impossible, and he knew that Elladan did not even like Celeborn - but now they had gone off together to play games. He had not been invited. He had not even been told. They had just let him stay all by himself in the library, without anyone to keep him company.

Holding his breath to stave off the imminent tears, Elrohir glared at the pair. His grandfather had lied. He was already bored of him, and had instead turned to his brother who was exciting, and would rather play with swords than read books. He was the one that everybody noticed. It was always Elladan and Elrohir, never Elrohir and Elladan. He never got to be special.

Rather shakily, the younger twin stalked into the glade where they were practicing, and marched up to his brother.

"Ammë says that we have to change in twenty minutes." It had been ten minutes, but let his brother get into trouble for crumpled tunics or tangled braids. Nobody would mind if it were his brother anyway, they would look at his own immaculate clothes and think it was another sign of being boring.

"Oh." Elladan said absently, tracing a pattern in the air with his sword - his eyes focussed only on the air in front of him. Celeborn doubted that he was even aware of what was happening around him as he tried to master new moves, so deep was his concentration.

"Thank you, Elrohir." Celeborn smiled at the quieter twin, and waved his sword in the air. "Would you like to see. . ."

But Elrohir had already disappeared into the trees.

The next item was not his at all, although it had been lent to Elrohir for a little time. Indeed it had never truly belonged to the one who lent it to the child, and valuable though it was, it had eventually been entrusted to Elrond, to ensure that it passed onwards.

The flute was small, at first glance suitable for a young child not older than a few dozen years, but on closer inspection perhaps not intended for one so young. It was made of silver, and was decorated with inlayed stars of mother-of-pearl, mithril and shining white opal. The body was decorated with etchings of trees and flowers and a very ancient and early form of script. It was a precious gift indeed, especially to a child too young to appreciate its significance. Encased in a slender case of worn blue leather embossed with silver and mithril stars, it had once been a childhood heirloom of a family which no longer lived in Middle-earth.

~*~

Elrohir raced through the woods back towards the house, his braids bouncing against the back of his neck as he leapt over logs and scrambled up the dusty reddish soil of the bank. He could hear his grandfather calling after him, Celeborn's deep voice clear through the trees, but he did not stop. He knew that he would not be followed for that would mean leaving Elladan alone with a sword, but he did not care because he did not ever want to look at his grandfather again. Celeborn had told him that he was special and important, and he had believed him, but it had been a lie. Brushing the dirt from his scabbed knees, Elrohir kicked out at the pale peeling bark of a silver birch and then winced in pain as the soft leather of his moccasins offered little protection against the impact.

He did like the training and worked hard because he enjoyed it, but sometimes he would just as rather curl up under a tree with a book as run around collecting beanbags. Warm tears began streaking down the elfling's cheeks and he swiped them away with the side of his arm, but they were soon replaced with more. Sometimes he wished that his Ada would be as proud of him for understanding what the visitors at the table were talking about as he seemed to be when he hit the centre in archery.

The younger twin stooped to pick up a stone, and flung it with all his strength into some red currant bushes. His anger overwhelmed his usual care and precision, and the stone landed with an inelegant crash amidst the sun- dappled leaves. A blackbird flew away to the sanctuary of an ash tree, screeching reproachfully at the child. Feeling an unpleasant flash of pleasure at the distress that he had caused the bird, Elrohir turned and continued his way up through the woodlands, kicking great clouds of dead leaves into the air with every disgruntled step.

One lazy afternoon, perched on the dry branches of one of the mighty oaks, he had been talking with his friends about what they would do when they would do when they were fully-grown. Some had wanted to be warriors, and some had wanted to be horse masters. One had wanted to heal and another had wanted to be an apprentice in the forge. Most wanted to follow their fathers. He would quite like to be a lore master like his Ada, for he enjoyed books and learning and he loved it when his father would take him onto his lap and explain what he was doing. He had made his own record book, modelled on the mighty tomes in the library, where he would record what had happened during the day. He thought he might like planning strategies and using words to gain support, rather than leading others into battle.

But even Ada had been a warrior once. He had fought at Dagorlad for the freedom of Middle-earth, and had been the herald of the High King. A long banner of blue and silver still hung down between two of the windows in his study, the stars shining red and gold in the evening light as the rich beams of the setting sun fell on them. All the stories in their book of tales featured elves that were brave and valiant, the ones that rode out bravely to defend their people- not those that stood behind them co- ordinating the assault. He and Elladan played with models of soldiers and riders, not scribes and healers.

Scowling, the younger twin stamped down heavily on a clump of red flowers, pressing their petals into a crumpled mess. It was not fair. Looking round to check that nobody was listening, Elrohir whispered all the bad words that he knew, internally glowing with guilty triumph.

One of the elves in the eldest training group - a youth of around thirty years - was to have an apprenticeship in the library come the autumn. Elrohir had watched him come in with his father and speak with the Keeper of the Library, and now he spent his free evenings learning how to care for the books and repair the bindings. It would be nice to be an apprentice in the library, but if had always been taken for granted that he and Elladan would prepare for initiation into the Guard once they finished their basic training. He supposed that, like lessons and dancing, it was one of those things that they had to do just because the Lord of Imladris was their Ada. His anger evaporating into self-pity, Elrohir dug his fists into his pockets and slunk miserably through the woodlands, sniffing back the last of his tears. Sometimes he did not like being the son of the Lord of Imladris so much.

~*~

Elladan's training master looked over his row of small charges, checking that they were all present and correct, and as tidy as such young elflings could manage. He could count ten small heads, each with hair neatly braided back from their face and plaits tied firmly with thin leather strips. Their newly washed faces were pink with the exercise and fresh air, and their eyes were bright and attentive. Each was wearing a neatly pressed training tunic, the dark green fabric hanging down smoothly to their knees, and their swords had been belted neatly around their waists. He shot a warning look at those small hands that had crept to the hilt of their weapons rather than hanging loosely at their sides, and nodded approvingly when the guilty fingers obeyed.

It was high time that some of his older pupils moved onto the next training group. Their tunics hung well above their grazed knees, and the rough dark green cloth had become faded from long hours in the sun and repeated washings. Coming autumn they should be donning new brown tunics, and lining up nervously under the command of a new master, but he had reservations about advancing one or two of them. All elflings had much to learn, but some seemed to resist absorbing the lessons that were presented to them again and again.

Sighing slightly, the experienced soldier glanced down at the worn earth, then looked up and nodded to his pupils with an encouraging smile. He had once been a captain of the Imladris Guard, but an arrow in the knee had put an end to his endeavours on the battlefield, and now he spent his days guiding those who would one day grow to succeed him. Years of practice had made him a shrewd judge of character, and he was sure even now that he could pick out those elflings who would become leaders and captains, and those that were destined for another role.

"Lead us on, Iorwë." He waved the small boy forwards and let his small troop of elflings trot past him before following at a more leisurely pace.

They passed amongst the shady trees to the largest of the training glades where the elflings from the other training group were already gathered in a neat half-circle around a tall elf with tightly braided silver hair. This was Ildruin, the chief of the training masters. Although he dealt mainly with the youngest of those in Imladris, it was rumoured that he often met with captains of the Guard as high as Glorfindel to discuss elves that had once been under his command. He was widely respected throughout Imladris, not least by the novices seeking entrance into the Imladris Guard. It was said that he had the final say over which of the young elves should move forwards, and if he wished he could veto even the most talented fencer or archer simply because he did not feel that they were ready for such responsibility. He was a kind elf, and endlessly patient with his tiny charges, and he always held a greeting and friendly smile for his pupils and ex-pupils alike.

Iorwë scuttled forwards, fearful of being late, and plopped down onto the grass beside the nearest elfling before remembering that he was supposed to be leading the others. One hand clamping shyly across his mouth, he crawled across the grass to guide the others into forming the other half of the circle, his eyes filling with anxious tears. Ildruin smiled reassuringly at the youngling, and shared an amused look with the training masters who had wandered over to each other and were conversing quietly. He took the youngest of the elflings in training, and consequently knew all the children and their strengths and weaknesses before they even progressed to the use of weapons. He was fond of all elflings in his care, and treasured each one in their own way. He had taught many, many children over the years and he was yet to come across any two alike.

"Are we all present?" Ildruin turned around; surveying the eager upturned faces below him, and glanced at the two masters. "There are nineteen?"

The younger training master shook his head and stepped forwards quickly, speaking up before any of his trainees could come up with some preposterous rumour. Brushing his hands down the light grey linen of his tunic, he looked around at the surrounding bushes hoping to catch sight of the elfling that he sought, before turning to Ildruin.

"No, we are missing Elrohir." The blue eyes quickly travelled over the curious expressions of the elflings until he fixed on a young face identical to the one he sought. "Is he not well, Elladan?"

Looking surprised and slightly worried, Elladan rose to his feet, looking around him as if hoping to catch some glimpse of his brother that the master had missed. "No, hîr. He left before me. I was late."

The last comment was mumbled, hoping that by some chance Ildruin would happen to miss the admission, although the sharp ears had never yet failed to catch any elfling that dared whisper whilst he was speaking. His own training master had already scolded him for his mistake, and he did not need more harsh words to understand that he had done wrong. It had been Celeborn's fault anyway. The chief training master's silver brows rose thoughtfully, but he wisely made no comment.

"Thank you, Elladan." The elf nodded his thanks at the elder twin, and Elladan sat down gratefully. Turning to Ildruin he nodded, indicating that he should proceed. "Elrohir must be indisposed. We shall start without him."

It was a pity that Elrohir had chosen today of all days to be late. He would have been pleased to hear of what Ildruin would speak, and he would be mortified when he realised that he had been missed. The younger twin hated to be noticed in a negative light, and of all the elflings in his care he had not expected Elrohir to let the group down.

"Very well." Ildruin stepped back, and sat down at the head of the circle between Iorwë and Andúnë - a position he favoured since it allowed him to see the faces of all the listening children. The grass was worn by this time in the season, rubbed away where small feet had been practising their drills and playing chase, or plucked and rolled into small missiles by bored children. However, for the most part it was still thick and green, and made a fairly comfy seat. Raising his voice slightly to be heard clearly over the cheerful shouts and laughter from elsewhere in the woods, he smiled warmly at the little group of elflings. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Master Ildruin." The children chorused together, every syllable clearly enunciated and spoken with a rhythm that told any listeners that it was a common phrase, learned by rote early in childhood. Admirably suppressing his grin, Ildruin waited until every eye was upon him before continuing. It was not unknown for soldiers of the Guard to chorus the familiar greeting out of habit even when greeted informally.

"The summer training session is drawing to an end, and soon some of you will be moving on to new masters and new challenges. The rest of you will begin learning many new skills and techniques, and I am sure that you will all do well and welcome newcomers into the group."

There was a small murmur of agreement, and Ildruin smiled encouragingly at the group. In truth he worried about those younglings who would be promoted into this particular group. It was ruled to a great extent by some of the older elflings whose skills were still somewhat lacking, and he doubted that they would greet the newest six-year-olds kindly.

"Thank you. However before we move on, we have one last excitement to look forwards to together. Our visitors from Lorien have donated a bow, as a prize for the most deserving elfling." The elf paused for a moment to allow the excited fidgeting and impatient glances to die down before continuing. "We have decided that we shall have a small contest in archery on the day of our picnic. The bow shall go to the elfling who performs most admirably in the displays. Your masters and I have discussed this, and have decided that although we will not account for age, a special ribbon should be given to the one of you that has shown the greatest effort and progress throughout the summer. Are there any questions?"

A forest of thin arms shot up eagerly, waving in the air as their owners bounced impatiently, trying to attract Ildruin's attention. Grinning at the boys' enthusiasm, the training master leant forwards, and nodded at a boy who looked as if must surely burst if he had to wait any longer.

"Avahir?"

~*~

Elrohir slunk silently through the southern halls of Imladris, gripping his bow and quiver of arrows tightly. He was an honest child, and his face held a distinctly guilty look as he crept into a small alcove along one of the less-travelled passageways. He had not meant to skip training today, but somehow he had ended up wandering the halls instead of hurrying down to stand in line with his friends. He had got changed into a fresh tunic and tidied his hair just as his Ammë had instructed but then, wishing to avoid any chance of meeting his grandfather, he had decided to cut through the hallways before taking the wide paved path that led down past the training glades. But somehow he had got distracted behind the statues in the courtyard, watching the arrival of a small group of elves dressed in cloaks of sea-green, and by the time he had torn his eyes from the unfamiliar coppery-coloured armour the sun was rather higher in the sky than he had expected.

He had thought of running down to the training ground and apologising but he was sure to be publicly reprimanded, and there was nothing that he hated more. It would be better perhaps to miss the whole session, and hope that some plausible reason would arise before the next day. Such reasons did not often choose to arise at his convenience, and Elrohir felt more than a little uncomfortable, for it would involve lying to those that trusted him, but he managed to justify it to himself since people whom he had trusted had lied to him too. He did not feel like being scolded today anyway, for he was sure that he would begin crying in front of the whole group.

Scowling at the thought, Elrohir set his bow down on the polished wooden bench that ran along the back of the alcove, and clambered up to huddle in the corner of the seat under the watchful eye of the statue that stood silently behind him. Few elves seemed to look into this small sanctuary as they passed, and of those that did, most were too busy to notice the child. Half-elf though he was, Elrohir could pass notice well enough if he wished to.

Only a small patch of corridor was visible from his perch, and in the silence it felt almost as if he was watching time pass. The sun sent slanting rays behind the windows behind him, creating bright islands of light on the shadowy floor, and he could watch the shadow of a creeper leaf as it brushed languidly against the glass in the faint breeze. Occasionally people would pass him by, carrying papers or sacks of corn, but for the most part he was alone.

He could faintly hear a murmur of voices from the nearby council chambers, mingling with the distant notes of a haunting tune. If he tilted his head, he could just hear the sound of sweet voices raised in song. He loved singing, and he was sure that even if he could only sit and listen awhile the hurtful winded feeling in his chest would ease. Singing had always made him feel better when he had woken from a bad dream, or the shadows of his bedchamber had seemed especially dark and menacing.

Tired at last of his solitary hiding place, Elrohir gathered up his bow and arrows and set off down the corridor in search of the source of the music.

~*~

It was a blazing hot afternoon and the sunlight was glaring off the river with blinding brightness. The lagoon was quiet except for the gentle rushing of the small waterfall and the soft voices of the elflings sitting on the shingle beach at the edge of the water. An older elf stood knee deep in the shallow waters at the edge of the pool, eyes fixed on the progress of a small figure hanging from a rough ledge in the overhanging cliff.

Sucking in his lower lip as he concentrated, Elladan suddenly let go of the rock-face and lunged upwards to wedge his hand in a crack in the cliff, simultaneously swinging up his leg to balance on the ledge that he had been holding onto moments before. Heart pumping violently, he flattened himself against the cool rock, and looked down at the small line of his friends below him before returning his focus to a tiny red flower that dangled from the moss that grew on a tiny cleft at eye level.

"Good." The training master called encouragingly, pulling off his hot itching tunic and flinging it onto a clump of heather as he kept a close eye on the child's handholds.

Each summer the training groups could be found down in this gorge, climbing up the sheer limestone walls and yelling with triumph as they emerged onto the banks. The river pooled deep and blue under the overhanging cliff, minimising injury to anyone that should slip, and the rock was well worn by the winter torrents and had many easy hand and footholds. It was ideal for such training, and once the lesson was over the boys enjoyed relieving their pent-up emotions by splashing and whooping as they leapt into the water.

Elladan tightened his grip on the rock, and looked upwards, surveying the rock face for possible holding places. The sun was hot on his bare back now that he had cleared the shadow of the opposite side of the gorge, and he had to squint from the brightness of the sun on the pale rock. If he could just reach that next crack. . .

"Excellent!"

Gasping for breath, Elladan fumbled for a foothold and pushed upwards, ignoring the warm blood trickling down from his grazed knee. He was nearly at the top now, only one more hold. . .

"Ye. . .yes!" The training master grinned as Elladan hauled himself up onto the dry grass and blooming purple heather and ran lightly down the hillside to sit down on the warm shingle beside his friend. "Well done."

Elladan smiled back at him and knelt down at the river's edge to gulp a few mouthfuls of water from his cupped hands before resuming his place and listening to the discussion of his successes and mistakes. Soon the next boy was called forward to take his turn and feeling elated, Elladan sat back and watched intently, replaying every move in his head as the other boy made slow and painful progress up the overhang.

However, his attention was perhaps not as complete today as it might have been. He had far too much to think about.

He normally enjoyed competitions and contests, even when he did not come first, but this one would be different. He had never been beaten by his brother before, and definitely not publicly, in front of everyone. His Ada and Ammë would go on and on about how proud they were of him for trying so hard, as if they did not know that that was even more shameful than being scolded or reprimanded. It would be better not to try than have everyone pity him for trying so hard and not getting anywhere.

Scowling, Elladan kicked out angrily at the fine gravel at the water's edge, sending the tiny stones flying. It was not fair.

~*~

Elrohir ran lightly down the corridor, forgetting that he should be in training in his eagerness to hear the music. He was not sure if he had been here before - at least not often. It must be the western wing of the refuge where many of the elves had their private chambers, for the afternoon sun was visible through the tall arched windows at the end of the hallway. Creeping forwards silently, the younger twin paused at an open archway and peered around the entwined carved vines into the room.

It was a bright sunny chamber, and a number of elves were gathered in a loose arc around one who was waving a thin stick in the air. Some were singing, but others plucked harps or held chimes, horns or lutes. The music the minstrels made was beautiful, especially to one who had not yet often been to the Hall of Fire, and Elrohir sat down in the shadow of a bench carved with birds and flowers and listened.

After what seemed like a cruelly short time, the music died down and before the elfling could stir himself, the players began drifting out of the room talking and laughing amongst themselves. Unnoticed, Elrohir shrank back into the shadows, eyeing the instruments enviously. He could sing of course, as all elves could. The family would often gather around the fire in the evening and sing as their father played the harp. They had learnt many of the old lays and songs that way, but although people often commented on his sweet voice, he had never tried playing an instrument. Perhaps he would like to be apprenticed to a minstrel.

"Elrohir." Erestor's surprised and disapproving voice cut across his thoughts. "Did your father send you?"

The younger twin jumped, and scrambled guiltily to his feet, looking up nervously at the counsellor. At least it was not Glorfindel, who would know immediately that he should be in training, but where the Balrog-slayer might understand or even be persuaded to generate a suitable excuse, Erestor could be guaranteed to report his deceit.

"Do you have a message?" Erestor persisted, raising a hand to check that his braids were in order. One never knew when you might be unexpectedly called to council.

Elrohir remained silent, but shook his head, staring bashfully at the floor. The grey paving was adorned with engraved vines and flowers around the edges of the hallway, and tracing a toe around a tendril of honeysuckle suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

Erestor looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, his brow furrowing in consternation. Elrohir had always been a most obedient child, but he could think of no reason why the child should be here. "Then should you not be in training?"

The child's cheeks flushed red, and he wound his fingers into a tangled knot. This seemed to create a work of art worthy of deep consideration, for the grey eyes did not rise again. "Yes, Erestor."

The young counsellor looked around the hallway with a hint of desperation, hoping to find anybody who would remove the responsibility of the child from him. Amazingly, the busy hallway seemed to be completely empty save for a lone leaf being blown gently across the stone floors. It had not been that way when he had tripped over the basket of eggs. Reminding himself that he had wished for some time to get to know the twins, Erestor smiled comfortingly at the child and stated reasonably. "But you are not in training."

Elrohir shook his head again, and Erestor was sure that he could see tears forming under the dark lashes. "No, Erestor."

The inexperienced counsellor sighed, wondering what should be done in such circumstances. By rights the child should be marched down to his lesson and soundly scolded for his lateness, but he had a longstanding sympathy with any elfling that was less than fond of the basic training. His childhood memories were not of sunny days and picnics and games in the woods and meadows.

"Why do you not walk with me?" Erestor spoke gently and held out a hand to the boy, and was strangely gratified when the small hand curled into his. Lowering his voice slightly as they crossed the hall, he queried, "Do your Ada and Ammë know that you are not in training?"

The dark head was shaken again, conveniently allowing large amounts of hair to fall over the flaming face. When Elrohir spoke his voice was barely a whisper and filled with shame. "No, Erestor."

"Ah." The counsellor looked into the distance for a moment, searching for inspiration, then led the child to one of the broad window-ledges at the end of the hallway where he sat down underneath the high window. The sun behind them cast long shadows of the pair across the deserted hallway, emphasising the difference in height and contrasting the youthful profile with Erestor's more serious one. "So, did you enjoy our recital?"

That seemed to meet with the child's approval, for Elrohir broke into an enthusiastic beam and he nodded emphatically as he spoke. "Oh yes, Erestor."

Erestor smiled, losing the dour expression that he seemed to consider it necessary to wear most of the time, and suddenly appeared much younger. "Have you never seen the minstrels practice before?"

"No." Elrohir sat down beside the counsellor, and drew his hair back behind his ear to look more closely at his companion. "Only in the Hall of Fire."

The child's grey eyes flickered momentarily over the flute in Erestor's hand, and the high-pitched voice rose inquisitively. "Are you really a minstrel, Erestor? Ada said that you were a counsellor."

It had never occurred to him before now that Erestor would have any other interests apart from having boring meetings with his Ada. Glorfindel had always been there, sharing meals, telling jokes, and looking after them for as long as he could remember, but Erestor had only been a counsellor for a few years. He had never seen Erestor play a game, go swimming or stretch out on a bed with a book, and he had always assumed that that had meant that he did not do these things.

"Oh." Erestor smiled kindly at the child's puzzlement and patted the silver instrument fondly. "No, I am a counsellor as your Ada said. But sometimes I like to play my flute, and the minstrels are so kind as to allow me to join them."

"Oh." Elrohir licked his lips as he thought. "So you can play music even though you are not a minstrel?"

"Not so very well," Erestor admitted, "but I enjoy it, and I find it peaceful after the day's business. Your Ada has his harp, does he not?"

Elrohir nodded earnestly, thinking back of the beautiful tunes that his father created, then looked pleadingly at the counsellor. "Can. . . may I try, Erestor? Please?"

Erestor pursed his lips in thought, his resolve melting under the child's anxious look. It distressed him to have to hand over such a precious instrument to a sticky fingered child, but it looked as if it meant the world to this particular elfling.

"I do not see why not." Erestor smiled encouragingly at the child and raised the flute to his lips. "You must play like this. . ."

Elrohir could barely contain his excitement as Erestor blew a soft note, and then handed the flute carefully to him, showing him how he should hold it. However, to his disappointment, even his most careful efforts led to nothing more than a series of loud and ear- splitting shrieks.

"I am no good."

Elrohir's face was so woebegone as he returned the precious flute that Erestor's heart melted for him in spite of the indignant glares the noise had earned the pair of them. The hall had miraculously suddenly filled with elves all shapes and sizes.

"Oh no, I am sure that you will do quite well." The counsellor reassured him, venturing to give the thin arm a gentle squeeze. The child's mother and father were both talented in music making, so he suspected that the elfling would not lack in ability when his turn came. "I expect that you are just a little small."

"Oh." Elrohir said in a downcast little voice, smiling bravely to show that he did not care. He was almost always too small to manage the things that he badly wanted to do. Although his Ada would often take the heavy books down for him, and his Ammë would help him manage the hoe and watering can, it was not the same as being able to do it for yourself.

"But," Erestor swallowed his last reservations at the dismay in Elrohir's voice, got to his feet and offered his hand to the child, "In my room I have another flute, one that was given to me when I was little older than you are now. Your fingers will find that easier to manage."

The younger twin was up in an instant, tugging impatiently on Erestor's hand as they headed towards the door.

~*~

"Ada! Ada!" Elrohir sped along the terrace, waving a thin leather pouch in one hand, and dragging a rather embarrassed looking Erestor with the other. The counsellor needed only take one pace for every three of the boy's, but he still had to run to keep up with the child.

Elrohir raised the pouch proudly above his head, and waved it for attention as his voice rose shrilly. "Ada!"

"My pardon," Elrond murmured to the others around the table and set down the curling-edged maps that he had been perusing. The meeting had not yet finished, and his son must have raced all the way up from the training grounds to arrive this early, but he felt that he deserved some time. Although Elrohir demanded attention much less frequently than his brother, when he did decide that he wanted it, he was far more difficult to distract.

"My son?" The Lord of Imladris pushed back his chair and stood up, spreading out his arms in an expanse of deep red velvet, ready to catch his son as the boy leapt at him with a joyful yell. The younger twin's face was alight with excitement, his hair falling messily over bright eyes and a delighted smile. Grinning at his son's obvious happiness, Elrond nodded at Erestor, and swept his child into his arms.

"Ada! Ada!" Elrohir gasped breathlessly as his father hugged him closely and spun him around, holding him safely with a broad arm across his back. "Look!"

The half-elf tried to squint through a few loose strands of hair at whatever object Elrohir was waving excitedly above his head, but did not recognise it until the child loosened his arms from around his neck, and brought the pouch down to eye level. Elrond realised what it must be the moment he saw the silver insignia embossed on the soft leather, but did not speak until he saw the silver instrument being tipped out carefully into Elrohir's cupped hand.

"Is that. . ." Elrond raised his eyebrows questioningly and looked over Elrohir's head at his advisor, who was now standing stiffly a few feet away, still dressed in the pale shirt and deep green tunic that he favoured for his free time. Even his dark hair seemed a little less carefully braided, and was missing the circlet that he usually wore on official duty.

Erestor nodded, flushing slightly, then smiled a little as Elrohir's face broke into a smile of pure excitement as he admired the instrument, his eyelashes very dark in his serious face. "I am sure that he will take good care of it."

Elrond's confirmation that he would make sure that his son did so was cut across by Elrohir's impassioned exclamation, "I will! I will! I promise I will, Erestor!"

The Lord of Imladris and his counsellor exchanged grins, and Elrond reached up to stroke his son's hair. "I am sure that you will. Have you asked Erestor to show you how to clean it?"

Elrohir gave his father a slight scornful look then looked around the large shoulder to smile at Erestor with a slightly conspiratorial air. "Of course, Ada! And he showed me how to play three different notes. I shall practice them, and then he shall teach me to play a tune!"

Erestor shuffled slightly and muttered something about his being willing to do so if Elrond and Celebrian wished him to do so, and if no better teacher could be found. Seeing the way that his counsellor's eyes had fallen to the ground, and the uncomfortable way that the well-polished boots were toeing the edge of the steps, Elrond smiled reassuringly.

"We would be most grateful, if you would be so kind." He spoke for himself only, but he was sure that his wife would agree with him. Celebrian cared deeply for all the elves in Imladris, and spent much time protecting the timid young counsellor from the more boisterous aspects of her husband and Glorfindel's characters.

"Can I?" Elrohir's eyes widened with excitement, and he gave his father a strangling hug as he buried his face into the soft cloth of the formal robes. "Thank you."

Elrond smiled at his son, then looked gratefully at Erestor. He had never thought of introducing his sons to music so early, for it had not been until his twenty-third begetting day that he was given his first harp, and in truth he had not really realised that the instruments could be made into such small sizes. Back in the misty memories of his childhood there were golden chiming bells and silver whistles and little wooden clappers, but nothing so fine as this. He was glad that he did not know the actual value of the trinket, because he was sure that if he did, he would ensure that it was put away until his son had grown too old to use it. From the expression on Elrohir's face it seemed that this was something that he should have thought of far earlier. Even as a tiny elfling, Elrohir had loved listening to music and singing along to the tunes at the festivals, even when he had not known the lyrics, and the prospect of being able to make such music himself had filled him with joy.

"You must be sure to listen to whatever Erestor says." Elrond said gently, adding a slight tone of warning to his words. "And you will have to practice regularly. If you start, you may not stop until you understand what you are giving up."

"I shall practice every single day." Elrohir smiled happily, if absently, as he made plans in his mind. His flute was not like his sword - practising would be so much fun. There were so many notes and tunes to be learned, and each could make people feel different things. "Look what Erestor taught me today!"

The elfling tugged gently on the pale blue cuff of his father's shirt and the moment that he was put down, bounced excitedly and put the instrument to his lips. Standing with his legs wide apart, he frowned a little in concentration, and took a deep breath.

"There is this note. . ." Elrohir blew gently, producing a fairly accurate copy of what the chief counsellor had shown him. He lowered the flute and looked seriously at his father. "It should not sound exactly like that, but Erestor said that with practice it would come."

"Ah." Elrond nodded equally seriously, and tried to hide his mirth from his son. There was an all too familiar snort from the table behind him that indicated that Glorfindel had not been quite as successful in this. Fortunately Elrohir seemed not to hear this in his preoccupation with getting the right fingering, although Erestor's face seemed to fall.

"And then. . ." Elrohir lifted the flute to his lips again and mumbled over the metal as he checked that his fingers covered the holes, "there is. . . Ammë!"

Elrohir's voice rose shrilly as he spied his mother coming up the steps, and he was away in a flash of green tunic, the silver flute sparkling in his hand. "Ammë! Ammë!"

As he turned, he caught sight of the Lord and Lady of Lorien sitting at the table, still perusing the documents that they had been discussing. He stared at Celeborn for a moment then, blinking away some dust that had caught in his eye, continued his headlong flight to the garden.

As the elfling shot past him, Celeborn furrowed his brow and gave his wife a questioning look. Just yesterday he was sure that Elrohir would have scurried shyly across to the table to crawl into his lap, and explain all about the flute in his quiet and careful tones. This afternoon too, he had been behaving strangely too, for the child had run off instead of joining in with the game. Although Elrohir did not appear upset, there was obviously something deeply wrong.

Galadriel smiled gently at her husband, and softly stroked his hand as it lay amidst the papers and maps on the table.

"All shall be well." His wife's voice sounded softly in his head, and from years of familiarity he had difficulty in discerning whether the words were whispered in thoughts or speech. "We shall talk later."

Celeborn nodded thoughtfully then smiled as he watched his daughter hurry up a few more steps, and come to a halt, her white skirts flapping around her ankles as she waited for her son to reach her.

"Look, Ammë." Elrohir leapt down the final three steps, his arms outstretched as if ready to fly, and landed with a skid as his moccasins slipped on the dry dusty stonework. "Erestor lent me a flute - a special one that he was given long ago. He said that he would teach me to play it! I already know three notes. Listen!"

As Celebrian deciphered the jumbled rush of words, her son leapt from foot to foot before her, beaming up at his mother's face, awaiting her approval. As the silence continued, Elrohir added pleadingly. "Ada said that I could. . ."

"Oh, of course you may!" Celebrian bent down to kiss her son's upturned cheek and tucked some of the loose strands of hair back behind his ear. Her eyes lingered on the silver flute and the inlays of mother of pearl and mithril, and she looked up quizzically at her husband. "Is that. . ."

Elrond and Erestor both nodded simultaneously, Elrond adding, "He has promised to look after it well."

Celebrian nodded and smiled down at her son, her voice as warm as the expression in her eyes. "I am sure that you shall. May it bring you much joy."

"It will." Elrohir said excitedly, slipping a hand into his mother's and starting up the steps at a more modest pace. "Erestor said that by next year. . ."

As Celeborn and Galadriel watched their daughter making her way up the steps, slowing her pace to suit the shorter legs of her son, they looked at each other - Galadriel's blue eyes meeting the greyer shades of those of her husband - and smiled.

"I have not seen her so happy." Galadriel's voice was soft and low, meant only for him.

Celeborn made no reply, but moved his hand to cover that of his wife. He could feel the icy cold of an invisible ring, and on the next finger the warm golden band that signified their marriage. Smiling a little sadly, he closed his larger hand snugly around his wife's, helping to warm the slender threads of mithril.

One well-worn wooden chest did not have quite the layering of dust and age as the other items that Elrond had found. It had been used regularly not so very long ago, apparently for the entertainment of a small child that had entered his family - but his sons had seemed to get just as much enjoyment from the old toys.

The chest contained the greater contingent of Elladan and Elrohir's private army - including along with the soldiers, captains, archers and riders several less traditional figures. Each child had owned a handful of additional elves, lovingly carved out of oak and painted in bright colours and decorated with tiny documents bearing the badges of the various houses of the twins' descent or cloaks made of scraps of silk.

~*~

Elrohir ran wildly up from the training glades, his sheathed sword bumping up and down against his thigh. It had not been a good day, and all he wanted to do was get changed and curl up somewhere quiet with a book and forget about all that had happened.

His training master had not been at all pleased that he had missed the last training session, and had not spared harsh words in reprimanding him. The training master had known that he had had no good reason for missing the lesson, and he was sure to tell Ada about it next time that he saw him - which would be soon. And he had missed being told about the archery contest, and Elladan had not thought to mention it, so he had looked stupid when the topic was brought up. Even worse than that, the training master had made him apologise in front of the whole group for letting them down. There was nothing that the younger twin hated more than being scolded in front of other people, especially his friends.

Scowling sulkily at the memory, Elrohir mounted the last of the steps and fled across the terrace at full speed. He had no wish to talk to his parents at this moment, although they were dressed in fine gowns and he would have usually asked why. His Ada would know at once that there was something wrong, and then he would have to tell his father what had happened, and then he would be disappointed in him. If he left it then perhaps his training master would forget what had happened, or his Ada would be too busy to receive the message.

"Elrohir!" Celebrian called in some surprise as her youngest son charged past. "Are you. . ."

Elrohir did not respond, weaving neatly to the right to dodge his father who had stood up to greet him. He did not want his Ammë to ever so kindly find out what was bothering him and make him feel better. He just wanted to forget that it had happened.

"Elrohir," Elrond's eyebrows shot angularly upwards as he tried to catch his son, "Wha. . . be careful!"

The Lord of Imladris' voice rose to a shout as the younger twin dashed across the stonework and towards the door into the house. Elladan had just come out of the doorway at a run, eager to get his snack, and the pair had little chance of stopping before colliding.

"Ouch!"

"Aww!"

There was a mighty thump as Elladan's head hit the doorframe and both twins stumbled to the floor. Drawing in his breath sharply in worry, Elrond was glad to see that Elrohir's blade had remained sheathed and that neither child was bleeding.

"Ai, you must be more careful." Elrond knelt down beside his sons and carefully helped them up into a sitting position, rubbing knocked heads and bruised elbows. "You could have hurt yourselves."

"It was not my fault." Elladan squinted up at his father's hand as it carefully examined the bump on his forehead. The swollen patch was sore, and his shoulder was already hurting from where one of the larger boys had accidentally shoved him into a tree. Raising his voice to a slight whine, he leant his cheek against his father's arm. "It hurts, Ada."

"I know," Elrond frowned slightly and bent down to kiss the child's forehead, "but it will soon be better and you will have a great big bruise to show your friends."

"It was not my fault either!" Elrohir said angrily and self-righteously. Elladan always tried to blame him and it had been his fault after all. At least part of it had been. "You were not looking where you were going!"

"I was!" Elladan tried to wriggle away from his father to scowl at his brother. "You were running too fast."

"It is not my fault that you are too clumsy to dodge me!" Elrohir kicked out unhappily at his brother. He felt utterly miserable and he did not care if he made his brother unhappy too. "That is probably why. . ."

"Boys." Elrond said loudly and firmly, placing a hand on his younger son's shoulder, cutting him off in mid flow. "It does not matter to me whose fault it was. I am just glad that you are both unhurt."

The twins fell silent momentarily, glaring at each other with matching fury.

"Ada, Elladan did not tell me about the archery contest!" Elrohir pulled a horrible face at his brother then looked up at his father with a hurt and wronged expression. "He is just jealous that I shall beat him!"

"I am not!" Elladan shouted quickly, struggling to his feet despite his father's restraint. "If you had been there then I would not have had to tell you!"

"I. . ." Elrohir gave his brother a betrayed look then launched himself at Elladan with a screech of rage.

"Quiet!" Elrond thundered and placed a hand on each child's chest to prevent any further attempts at bodily harm. Then, as his sons - one sullen, the other angry - became still, continued more quietly. "You were not at training?"

Elladan began to speak and Elrond tapped him firmly on the chest a few times to silence him. To his great relief, his guests had not yet arrived so he did not have to display his sons' worst behaviour to any more of the great and good of Middle-earth. "Elrohir?"

Elrohir looked at him sulkily, his cheeks flushed and his arms folded across his chest.

Sighing inwardly, Elrond gently touched the child's cheek. In the excitement of the previous evening he had forgotten all about the announcement, and had merely assumed that Elladan's bad temper was down to the fact that he did not have a flute of his own. He should have remembered that his son would not have had time between training and his arrival to have a lesson in the new instrument. "Did you miss training?"

Elrohir looked at the ground then gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Elrond looked at him, nodding slightly himself, then asked, "Why was that?"

The elfling shrugged, still looking at the ground with an air of dejected misery and spoke quietly. "I do not know."

His father looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows. He had had moments like that himself, in his own childhood. It had been impossible to explain exactly why various ill-fated schemes had seemed like a good idea at the time, and he too had had to respond with the exasperating statement. "Were you distracted by the music?"

Elrohir looked up doubtfully at his father's understanding words, then nodded in relief. "It was beautiful music, Ada."

"I do not doubt it." Elrond nodded understandingly then looked questioningly at his son, "Why were you in the hallways, anyway?"

"I. . ." Elrohir paused and pressed his lips tightly together. He could not tell his Ada why he had run away, not when his brother was standing just there. "I saw some soldiers."

He could feel his cheeks burning scarlet at the lie, and he did not dare to meet his father's eyes, but nobody seemed to notice his untruth. His father merely nodded at him and warned him not to do it again, then turned to his brother. "You are feeling better, Elladan?"

Elladan nodded in reply then stepped back from his father's hand, which he had been leaning against aggressively during the conversation - ready to defend himself with full vigour should his brother attack.

"Good boy. I have visitors arriving tonight, and I should like you to meet them." Elrond looked from face to face, including both boys in his invitation. "Lord Cirdan once knew my father, and I am sure that he would like to see you both."

The twins looked at each other, their frowns rapidly being replaced with excited smiles. They were not often permitted to greet visitors that were not family, and the thought of doing so made them feel pleasantly grown up.

"Are we allowed to eat with you tonight?" Elladan asked eagerly and licked his lips. During such dinners many rich and tasty foods were served which, while delicious, were not entirely suitable for every evening. On the evenings that they were allowed to stay up late and join their parents and other important elves and visitors at dinner in the hall, they were usually allowed to help themselves to anything they wished. They enjoyed this immensely, but Elrond did not try to fool himself that they were eating anything even approaching a balanced meal.

"Oooh!" Elrohir's eyes lit up at the thought of roast ham and mushrooms in creamy sauces. "Will there be herby cheese?"

Grinning at his sons' hopeful expressions, Elrond shook his head. "Not tonight, no."

Both boys sighed in disappointment, and Celebrian and Elrond exchanged smiles. Any would think that they did not feed their children in-between the various festivals and formal functions.

"But," Celebrian came up behind her husband and placed her hand on his shoulder, "tomorrow there will be a feast and a dance to welcome all our visitors, and you shall be invited."

Both of the twins' faces broke into smiles and they rushed to hug their parents, already chattering excitedly about what they would eat and what they would see.

~*~

Elladan lay sprawled on a large flat rock that overhung the road up to Imladris. The trees were thick at this point along the valley, and he could barely see the grey stone of the road between the many trunks and bushy ferns and brambles. Beyond that he could just see the bushes and shrubs plunging down to the rapidly flowing water.

He had been lying here awhile now, thinking about the upcoming competition as he watched a small bird flying back and forward from a hole in a tree. Elrohir was going to beat him, and everyone knew that he would. Everybody would watch it and see him do badly, and because he had not participated in the midsummer displays they would not know that he was good at the other bits of training. It would have been a little better if they were having a fencing competition too, because then everyone would know that although he was not that good at archery, he was better than Elrohir with the sword. But what would rankle most would be his parents telling him proud they were of him for trying, as if they did not know that to have everyone know that you had tried hard and still failed was worse than failing without making an effort.

Scowling, Elladan buried his face into the warmth of his folded arms, and fidgeted his legs in the air. It would not be fair if Elrohir won. If his brother was given the bow then there would be something really important that they did not share - not something little like a flute, but something that everybody would know about and that he wanted really badly. He would still get a bow for their tenth begetting day, but it would be different to that of his brother, and it would remain different forever. And although the thought of being able to do something so different to his brother made him feel a little bit excited, it was still rather scary.

They had always done the same things when they were small, because that was only fair. He did not think that he had anything that Elrohir did not have. Last year he would not have been lying here alone. But this summer everything had changed. His Ada told him that he and Elrohir would drift apart as they grew older, one time when he had been upset because his brother had copied him in a game, and at the time he had not believed him. Only now it was all coming true, and he did not like it as much as he had once thought he might.

The approaching sound of horses' hooves on stone made the child raise his head and listen until he heard elvish voices. Realising that these must be the visitors that his Ada had been talking about, Elladan dropped lightly down onto the moss and dead leaves below and began slipping silently through the undergrowth until he was crouched at the roadside, hidden behind a tree.

Soon several horses approached, moving at a slow pace as the riders admired the river and woodlands and talked amongst themselves with a strange and very pronounced accent. All were dressed in tunics of grey, and wore thick cloaks of grey-green over their shining armour. The insignia on their shields was one that he did not think that he had ever seen before, and they were armed with long spears in addition to their swords and bows.

They looked friendly, and were accompanied by some of the soldiers of the Guard, so Elladan slipped a little shyly onto the road to watch them go past.

"Hail!" One of the strange soldiers came to a halt alongside him, and looked down at him with a smile. "Are we yet near to Imladris?"

"Oh. . ." Elladan was caught speechless in his surprise for a few moments then pointed up the road. "It is just a little way up there."

"Ah." The soldier looked back at his companions with a grin, then turned back to Elladan. "And do you live there?"

"Yes." Elladan meant to look at the kindly soldier, but his gaze seemed intent on drifting down to the strangely shaped swords and the spears. "Is that your spear?"

The elfling reached out to touch a metal inlay in the wooden handle with curious fingers. Spears were rarely chosen as a weapon of choice in the Imladris Guard, and he had not often seen them used.

"That is." The soldier dismounted smoothly, and held out the weapon to the child. "Would you like to hold it?"

Elladan's eyes widened in excitement, and he carefully gripped the spear the way the soldier had done. The weapon weighed more than he had expected and he was glad that the soldier had kept a hand on the shaft, or he feared that he might have let it fall and hurt one of the horses.

One of the soldiers - a captain he guessed, for his mail, cloak and shield were slightly different from the rest - had a particularly nice grey horse that was bigger than the others. His curiosity aroused, Elladan stepped to one side to admire the horse from a distance, and once the spear had been taken away, Elladan slipped between the riders until he was standing next to the captain's boot.

"What is your horse's name?" Elladan looked up hopefully at the captain and gently patted the horse's side. Glorfindel had said that captains were meant to be alert at all times, but this captain seemed to be rather sleepy, for it took him more than a moment to look down at him. "Does he have a name?"

Finally giving into the persistent voice, the captain backed up a few steps and looked down disapprovingly at him. He looked strange for a captain, with tanned skin and a closely trimmed beard, and Elladan did not think that he respected him quite as much as the smart young captains of the Guard.

"He has a name, and it is Aelin." The elf spoke in a rather gruff voice, looking down at Elladan with a frown.

"Oh, hello Aelin." Oblivious of the captain's displeasure Elladan stretched upwards to rub the horse's chest and peeped around the animal's neck to look pleadingly at the captain. "Can I have a ride?"

The captain's weather-beaten brow furrowed in annoyance, and he looked down at the child with obvious irritation. "No."

"No?" Elladan moved back a few steps to look up quizzically at the elf. He had never been refused in his wishes before now, especially not so rudely. Most soldiers were all too glad to boost a child up into the saddle and lead them slowly along the path. "Why. . ."

"No." The captain repeated firmly and flicked his head towards the undergrowth. "Run along now, shoo! Onwards!"

The last word was shouted, and Elladan barely had time to hurry back into a particularly prickly patch of brambles before the party started off again. Giving the retreating back of the captain a venomous glare, Elladan scrambled back up the slope to his home. If these soldiers were the rear guard as he had heard them mention, then the guests had probably already arrived, and if he did not change quickly then he would be late.

~*~

"He was a horrid captain!" Elladan declared loudly, "He was mean and nasty and he smelt!"

The family of Imladris and various others had gathered in the grand chamber used to receive important guests, and although they had been there but five minutes, Elrond was already regretting inviting his sons.

Elrohir was looking off into the distance rather dreamily, humming a tune under his breath. Someone foolish had allowed him to bring his flute with him and although he was keeping it in its case as asked, he was still attempting to practice the fingering through the soft leather. Elladan had scurried in several minutes late and was now standing in the centre of the room, feet wide apart and scowl firmly in place, elaborating on the unpleasantness of the captain in question.

"I am sure that he was just weary." Celebrian said soothingly and lightly patted the cushioned seat next to her. "Come and sit down next to me, little one, and I shall tell you a tale as we wait."

"I bet his horse hates him!" Elladan did not move immediately, intending to finish addressing his rather stressed looking father before scampering over to his mother's side. "I hope it throws it off and stamps on him. And he had a nasty beard like a horrid man! I hope it grows all. . ."

At the word 'beard', Mithrandir coughed slightly and kept his hand in place over his mouth for a few moments although his eyes crinkled up with amusement, and Elrond took a deep breath in and pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. Unaware of this warning, Elladan carried on for a few moments more before his mother patted the seat rather more firmly.

"Elladan, come and sit, child!" Celebrian held out a hand to help her son onto the bench, then spoke in a low urgent voice. "Elrohir, put away that flute. Elladan, you mu. . ."

Her warnings drifted off into nothingness as she looked up and found the reason why the others in the room had descended into silence. The Lord of the Havens stood in the doorway, one booted foot tapping the floor, bushy silver eyebrows lowered in irritation, and glaring at Elladan with a ferocity sufficient to make Celebrian place a protective arm around her son's narrow shoulders.

"Cirdan." Elrond got up with a smile, and nodded to the shipwright in greeting. Sparing a moment to give Elladan a warning look, he turned and strode across the room to where the shipwright was standing stiffly. "I welcome you to Imladris."

"Aye?" Cirdan questioned rather ill-temperedly, then embraced the half-elf rather roughly and then almost in confirmation repeated himself. "Aye."

"You have met my wife, Lady Celebrian." Elrond led the shipwright forward to his wife who had risen to her feet. "Her parents, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel are also here."

Cirdan nodded his greeting at Celebrian and looked briefly at the Lord and Lady of Lorien with a small grunt.

"Ah." Recognising the shipwright's lack of patience at having lengthy formal introductions to those that he already knew, Elrond increased his speed, introducing each elf or man with a slight nod as they stood to their feet until he reached his sons. "And these are my sons, Elladan and Elrohir."

The twins gave each other a rather nervous look and slid off their seats to stand in greeting, and nodded their acknowledgement at the same moment.

"Well met, Lord Cirdan." Elrohir spoke clearly; a little hesitant at speaking so loudly when Elladan was only mumbling the words.

"Master Elrohir." Cirdan nodded sharply, to the twins' surprise differentiating between the pair of them immediately, and levelled his grey eyes on Elladan with a rather challenging air.

Elladan's hand tightened nervously on his mother's knee, but he glared back at the shipwright with all the hatred and fury that he could muster.

"Yes, well. . ." Elrond coughed rather awkwardly, and bravely moved until he was standing between the pair. "Let us sit down. Are you thirsty?"

The twins sat in bored silence for a while, playing a silent game of 'paper, scissors, stone' covertly between their knees whilst they watched the adults drink tea and talk quietly about politics and the landscape. They had each been given a glass of milk that they had quickly drained - being unable to let it linger, sip by sip, as the adults were prone to do - and they had finished the single biscuit that they were allowed long ago.

The shipwright clearly had no interest in them, and he had not even asked the usual annoying questions like how old they were, or whether or not they were enjoying the fine weather. Unsure about whether they were pleased or offended at this, they had decided to resort to ignoring the guest until he actually spoke to them. At present he seemed to be giving their Ammë and Ada something, and although the twins strongly suspected that it was a gift and they dearly wished to inspect it, they were too proud to turn back un- coaxed.

"Oh, how lovely." Celebrian said loudly, patting Elladan's knee gently and signalling to Elrohir that he should pay attention. "See what Lord Cirdan has brought us."

Elrohir crawled across the cushions until he was resting against his father, and knelt down as he bent close to the small table where the gifts had been placed beside the drinks and biscuits. There were a number of beautiful pearly shells of the like that the twins had never seen before, some thick books bound in a pale leather and marked with the badge of the Havens, and two beautiful toy ships carved of pale wood and with sails of silver-grey cloth.

"They are beautiful." Elrohir reached out his fingers towards one of the ships then paused, his fingers hovering in mid air. "May I please touch it?"

"Aye." Cirdan said and nodded slowly, a small smile forming beneath his beard. "It is yours."

"Oh! Thank you!" Elrohir smiled excitedly at his parents and the shipwright, and touched his upper lip with his tongue as he eagerly reached out to cradle the toy in his arms. "Will it float?"

"Aye." Cirdan said doubtfully, giving Elrond a rather confused look. The child did not appear to be slow, and the Lord of Imladris had always been bright as a boy, but surely even one so small would be expected to know such a simple fact. "The ship shall float."

Elrohir beamed at him and bounced a little on the seat. "Can we sail them after supper, Ada? Please?"

Elrohir looked so bright-eyed and pink-cheeked with excitement that Elrond did not feel that he could refuse him, despite his previous engagements. While he would be busy between the twins' suppertime and bed, if they did not spend too long over the formal greetings there should be some time at least to run down to one of the ponds and wade in the cool water as they tested the ships' seaworthiness.

"Perhaps we may find time before your supper. If Lord Cirdan does not wish to linger over the greetings, then we may take a walk down to the pond." Elrond gave the shipwright an amused look and added for his benefit. "Many of the models that are made here are not entirely watertight."

Cirdan snorted derisively and muttered something disparaging about the Noldor and their jewels, but nevertheless looked somewhat relieved. Receptions such as this held no joy for him, especially now that he had nobody to amuse him, and any escape - even one to watch small, insolent half-elves sail ships in a pond - was a welcome one.

Elrohir smiled widely and stroked the bow of his ship fondly, already imagining how it would sail swiftly through the shallow water, and Elrond turned to his elder son who was watching the happenings out of the corner of his eye as he tried his hardest to pretend that he was not interested. "Elladan, have you thanked Lord Cirdan for your gift?"

Turning round at his father's gently warning tone, Elladan kept his eyes on the floor and mumbled as quietly as he thought that he could get away with, "Thank you for your gift, Lord Cirdan."

Cirdan maintained his bland expression and continued explaining methods of steering the ship to a spellbound Elrohir, but Elrond frowned in annoyance. He could not understand how his sons managed to find it impossible to remain pleasant and polite for a few short minutes to greet a guest.

"Elladan." The Lord of Imladris' eyebrows raised a fraction, and his voice took on a definite warning tone. He had especially wanted Cirdan to share his pride in his boys.

Elladan sighed deeply in a fine impression of his father in one of his more long-suffering moods, and snatched the boat from the table. "Thank you, Lord Cirdan."

Elrond sat back down again, rubbing the flat of two fingers along his forehead wearily. He would speak to Elladan about his manners, but later, when they were alone and had some peace and privacy for the scene that his son was sure to make.

~*~

It was shady under the overhanging willow trees, and the water in which the young mariners were wading was pleasantly cool after the heat of the day. The flow of the stream was slow at this point, and it had pooled into a large shallow pond under the trees. Great tufts of long grass and reeds curved down from the banks into the water, and here and there the roots of a tree would extend to the water's edge, providing a handhold or a step to allow little elflings in and out of the water. The base of the pool was covered in flat, oval-shaped pebbles and the water was clear enough to see tiny fish darting from the cover of a stone to the dark safety of the banks. They had often come down here throughout their childhood, first holding onto their parents' hands as they learn to paddle, and later trying to manoeuvre long handled nets to catch the minnows and tadpoles.

"I bet mine will sail faster." Elladan raced down through the gardens, holding his boat far out in front of him, sailing it through the air.

"I bet it will not!" Elrohir hurried after him, cradling his own boat safely to his chest. Lord Cirdan had shown him how to carve a name into the bow, and he was sure that having a name to call his ship as he urged it to sail faster would make all the difference. He only wished that the sea-elf had let him hold the knife himself instead of doing it for him.

"First!" Elladan used his free hand to tag the trunk of a tree, put his ship down carefully on the grass and sat down beside it to take off his moccasins and tuck his tunic into his shorts.

"First is hasty, second is wise!" Elrohir dropped down on the grass beside his brother and stuck his tongue out. "You could have fallen and dropped your ship."

"Huh." Elladan shoved his battered shoes into the dusty ground around the protruding roots of the tree and got onto all fours to climb down into the water. "You sound like Ammë."

"I do not!" Elrohir retorted, and tipped onto his knees to hand Elladan's ship to him, being careful not to get water onto the sails. "I am being sensible."

Elrond walked down to the pond at a more leisurely pace, shaking his head in amusement as the twins' banter continued. His sons had cheered up considerably once they were allowed to change from their formal tunics - garments that felt unpleasantly tight and constraining after a summer of running around in their loose tunics and shorts - and were once again being charming little souls. Sadly though, Cirdan was no longer here to admire it.

"Look, Ada! Watch this!" Elrohir's yell drew the Lord of Imladris' attention, and Elrond stopped for a moment to watch the small ships being blown across the water and offer a word or two or encouragement before sitting down against the trunk of one of the trees at the water's edge. His sons were being so careful not to risk upsetting their new toys that the surface of the pool was still perfectly smooth save for the long ripples that extended from the ships' bows as they cut through the water, and the circles that spread outwards where a fish would touch the surface. At this angle he could see the leaves and patches of cloudless blue sky reflected in the water, and once or twice a bird fluttering from branch to branch in the treetops.

"I am winning!" Elladan squealed in glee and bounced on tiptoes in the water, mentally urging his ship to inch forward to victory.

"No. . ." Elrohir slyly moved his leg forwards through the water to help his ship onwards. "I am catching up!"

"Neck and neck!" Elrond called cheerfully, stretching out a hand to the water to catch the boats before they hit the wet reeds and muddy bank. "Shall I send them off again?"

Both boys smiled, and crouched down close to the surface of the water to watch each ship receive a push and surge across the pond towards them.

"They look bigger when you bend down." Elrohir squinted at his boat, bending down so low that the water lapped at the edge of his shorts. "Almost as big as it would look if I were small enough to fit on the deck."

Smiling absently as he automatically gathered his sons' shoes and placed them safely on the grass some distance from the riverbanks, Elrond was caught at unawares when there was a mighty splash. He turned round quickly to find his eldest son sitting up to his chest in the pond, spitting out mouthfuls of unpleasant tasting water.

"I fell in." Elladan voice was very small as he waded to the banks, clutching his ship to him. "I only wanted get close enough to see what it would be like if I was standing on the deck."

"Never mind." Elrond put a hand under each of the child's elbows and hoisted him from the water, hugging him at a distance. "It will soon dry in this weather."

Elladan nodded rather sadly, and began wriggling out of his wet tunic and undershirt with his father's help. It was not the soaking that he minded as much as the fact that the splash had made the sails of his ship rather wet, and he was afraid that they would not be as nice when they dried.

"I think it is drying already." Elrohir hauled himself back up onto the bank and skipped over to his brother's side. He brushed his fingers along the wet mainsail then rubbed his brother's arm comfortingly. "It will be just as nice, and if it is not then we shall both share mine."

This coaxed a small smile to Elladan's lips, and feeling rightfully proud, Elrond widened his embrace to include both his boys. "That is very kind, Elrohir, but I am sure that Elladan's ship will soon be as good as new. Lord Cirdan does not make his toys to break, and a few splashes shall not harm them."

Elladan smiled properly, and put his ship down on sunny patch of grass to dry, being careful to prop it up against a tree stump to avoid getting dirt and bits of grass on the clean sails. Much as he had pretended that he did not care for any gift from the shipwright, he had never seen a toy ship as fine as this, and even the thought of it coming to any harm hurt him. Although he would have loved to imagine that he was a tiny person sailing away under the white sails, he would not be trying to see what it would be like again. Unless. . .

"I have an idea!" Elladan's eyes lit up suddenly, and he darted off up the path towards the house.

"Where. . ." Elrond began with a perplexed expression, looking around at the departing figure of his son.

Used to such departures, Elrohir merely shrugged and hugged his ship closer to his body. He was not yet ready to finish his game, but playing alone was little fun when you were used to sharing the game with a brother. "Will you play with me, Ada?"

Elrond smiled at him, and looked down at the shady pool. It had been a long time since he had been paddling, and it was such a hot day. "I see no reason why not."

The Lord of Imladris sat down, rolled up the base of his leggings, and began unlacing his boots.

~*~

Elladan ran down through the gardens holding several small wooden figures, and with many others knocking together in his pocket. The larger ones would make good crowds for the harbour, but the smallest soldiers should fit nicely onto his ship. He had even remembered to bring some blue ones as well as the red ones so that Elrohir could join in the game too.

The undergrowth was thick at this point, for he was using a little known shortcut down through the gardens that involved much crawling through bushes and scrambling along branches. He looked furtively, then dropped to his knees and wriggled through a thick clump of lavender to make his way into the green cave of a weeping willow.

He and Elrohir had made a den here every summer since they could remember, and once or twice had been allowed to sleep in bundles of blankets under the leafy covering. They had had fun on those nights, watching the stars, roasting fudge and hazelnuts on sticks over the light of a candle, and talking until the grey fingers of dawn began to touch the horizon. Although it had been scary in the dark of the woods on his own, when they were enclosed in their own little place, safely together and with their Ada just a shout away, it had been fun. Sparing a moment to hope that they would be allowed to camp outside again before the summer was over, Elladan scuttled across the mossy ground and wriggled out from under the branches on the other side.

Someone was talking nearby, and eager not to have their hideout discovered, the elder twin darted to crouch by the thick hazel bushes that bordered the path at this point.

"How do we know that he will not betray us?" An angry voice made the elfling stop suddenly, dropping the soldiers that he held in his surprise. "There are others and I do not trust him."

There was a slight pause then another voice spoke with equal anger only barely disguised by measured calm. "It was entrusted me to do with it what I will. My heart lies with sea and I have no need for such power."

Recognising the voice as that of the shipwright, Elladan became still and shrunk down close to the grass. He knew that he was hearing something that was not meant for him, but he did not know how to escape from the situation without it appearing as if he had been eavesdropping.

"But none of us bear this burden needlessly. How shall you protect your people if your faith proves to be misplaced?" To Elladan's shock, the first voice appeared to be that of his grandmother, but she did not sound kind and friendly anymore. "The power of Lorien cannot stretch this far."

"It shall not be." The shipwright's voice was so firm and terrible that Elladan found himself beginning to shake although it was a warm day. "I do not bring others into my trust lightly."

There were some light footsteps, moving with a speed that spoke of anger, and then a long silence. After a while, Elladan ventured to move his hand to gather the dropped figures, then crawled forward a little way.

"What. . ."

A large hand shot through the leaves of the hazel bushes and gripped his shoulder painfully tightly, hauling him though the bushes and onto his feet.

"That hurts!" Shivering despite his best efforts to show that he did not care, Elladan crossed one arm across his chest and clutched his other elbow tightly. "You scratched me!"

His voice did not sound as defiant as he would have liked, and Cirdan ignored his brave stand. They stood in silence for a while in the growing shadow of the willow tree, the shipwright's grey eyes looking searchingly at the child's face, and Elladan found that he was unable to meet the older elf's gaze. Flushing furiously, he looked down at the rough paving of the path and the worn toe of the other's boot.

Cirdan looked long and hard at the elfling, wondering how he should deal with this new challenge. The child was wearing only a pair of damp shorts, his hair was hanging wet around his shoulders, and he was armed with nothing more sinister than a handful of toy soldiers. Like another child that he had once known, he probably had an affinity for creeping around silently, and had not meant to overhear what he had. But he had heard, and he had been eavesdropping.

"I did not know that Elrond had brought his sons up to sneak and spy." One silver brow arched upwards. "Or is that a peculiarity of your own?"

Elladan's ears turned scarlet up to their tips, and looked assiduously down at his bare toes. "I did not mean to hear."

"No?" Cirdan spoke calmly, but gave the child a little shake. "But when you did hear, you stopped to listen."

"No!" Elladan shouted out in frustration, meeting the shipwright's eyes for a moment before his gaze sank guiltily back down to the ground. "I. . . I was just. . ."

"I do not wish to know." The shipwright looked tired suddenly and released his grip on the elfling's shoulder. "Do not speak of what you heard to anyone."

The sea elf turned and began making his way back up the path, leaving Elladan feeling rather stunned. Still shaking a little, the child took a step back then gathered up his courage.

"I. . . I do not like you." He shouted after the departing shipwright then added equally loudly. "At all!"

The Lord of the Havens stopped suddenly, then slowly turned around, smiling a little sadly. "And nor I you, child. But I do not suppose that that matters now."

~*~

"Glorfindel," Elladan ran to catch the blond elf's hand, clutching the arrows that he had forgotten in his fist, "I am ready!"

The late afternoon had faded into evening by now and Elrond's family and many of their friends had gathered on the terrace to talk, sing and read as they watched the sun set over the Misty Mountains. The twins had been allowed to eat their supper perched on one of the stone benches overlooking the gardens, chattering happily about the new ships as they ate, and had enjoyed listening to the singing and watching their father play his harp. Now though they had cleared their plates away and washed their hands and were eager to get on with their plans. Erestor had promised Elrohir a lesson with the flute, and Elladan was to hurry down to the training fields with Glorfindel to practice his archery.

"Good." Glorfindel glanced down at the child with a small smile and slung his bow over his shoulder, then turned to Celebrian. "May I borrow Elladan?"

Celebrian set down her glass down on the table and knelt down to straighten some of the creases out of her sons' tunic, then smiled up at her friend. "Look after him."

"I shall." Glorfindel placed a steadying hand on his bow and started off down the steps, a little amused to see that Elladan had slung his small bow over his own shoulder in an exact replica of his pose. "Ready?"

The pair walked quickly down the steep winding path through the woods and over the little bridge by the waterfall, heading for the long flat meadows by the river. The grass was long in the overgrown hedgerows between the fields, and the late evening sun cast long shadows of swaying seed heads and curling tendrils of honeysuckle onto the path.

"So," Glorfindel said at last, watching Elladan's face curiously, "you have heard about the competition from Ildruin?"

He had been mystified that he had not already heard all about the announcement from the child. He had expected that, as usual, the child would have been wildly excited about any opportunity to test his skills, and would have been insisting on practicing additionally hard to perfect his technique before the end of the week.

"Yes," Elladan said quietly and looked up at Glorfindel as if to say something else, but thought better of it and picked a bright red poppy and examined it closely.

His fair brow furrowing slightly, Glorfindel looked pensively at the child's tousled head. "Is training going well, Elladan?"

Elladan said nothing immediately, but began plucking the petals from the poppy's head, leaving a trail of crumpled petals behind him.

"It is all right." The elfling shrugged reluctantly. In truth things were far from that, because he was becoming afraid of trying his best for fear that he would beat Culrómen or his friends and that he would have to pay for it later, but it would be cowardly to whine to Glorfindel about that. A Balrog-slayer would never allow something as small as nasty names or spoiled snacks to upset him. "We went climbing yesterday, and today we went swimming and dived for white pebbles."

"Aye, I know." Glorfindel nodded slowly then, on seeing Elladan's confused expression added, "I was talking to Ildruin."

"Oh." Elladan looked down sadly at the ground and sighed. He wanted to tell someone what was bothering him, but he was ashamed of letting people know that he was frightened of the bigger boys. He was the son of the Lord of Imladris and should be able to deal with such things.

"Are you not looking forward to the competition?" Glorfindel probed, managing to give the impression that he was not really interesting in the answer as he watched a red kite circling above them. "Or will you miss the training once the summer has ended?"

Elladan fidgeted, and let go of Glorfindel's hand to hop on one foot and shake an imaginary stone out of one of his moccasins. The end of the summer was the one bright spot on his horizon. Surely then Culrómen would move to a different training group and he and Elrohir would be back together again, and it would all be better.

"I cannot wait to start with knifes!" To his relief, Elladan managed to come up with a positive comment and skipped to catch up with Glorfindel. "Me and Elrohir shall be together again."

"Elrohir and I. . ." Glorfindel corrected then fell into an awkward silence. He knew that all of the twins' training masters felt that Elladan and Elrohir were better off apart, and that with Elrond and Celebrian's permission the separation would continue. The younger twin's confidence certainly seemed to have come along in leaps and bounds this summer, and nobody wished to confine him to a situation where he would always be struggling to catch up with his brother. "You shall enjoy knife work, I believe. It is faster than fencing and you shall have to practice your aim and distancing."

They talked about knifes for a little while, then as they approached the great birch trees that separated the danger of the training grounds from the open meadows, Glorfindel slowed his pace somewhat. "You are not looking forwards to the competition."

Elladan shuffled unhappily and scratched above his right eye. "Not really."

Glorfindel arched his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Elladan bit his lip and ripped the head off the poppy and threw it into the grass at the side of the path. "I will not win, Glorfindel. I shall be bad."

"Well," Glorfindel patted the child's back comfortingly, "you shall try hard, and that is all that matters. There have been times where you have come last and we were still proud of you."

"Yes. . ." Elladan said uncertainly, tugging on some strands of hair as he wound them around his fingers. When he was much younger he had dropped his beanbag in the obstacle race and everyone had beaten him, even Therin who had been too slow to beat a leaf set floating in the river. But then he had still almost caught up despite having to go all the way back down the ladder and through the hoops again. "But Elrohir will be better than me."

"He may be." Glorfindel agreed, reminding himself that he still had not talked to Elrond about the twins' progress. "But so am I, and so are all the soldiers in the Guard. Does that matter?"

Elladan frowned and swung the older elf's hand extra hard. "Not you. . ."

"But Elrohir," Glorfindel frowned as the elfling hesitated. "Does it matter if he wins this once?"

Elladan let go of the older elf's hand to leap from shadow to shadow on the path. The tall birch trees left long bars of grey shadow on the pale stonework at this point, almost too far for the legs of elflings to reach - but not if one took a run up, crouched and then leapt. The child hopped and skipped through the birch trees, then stopped and waited for Glorfindel and dropped into a walk at his side when he caught up.

"Yes." He looked up rather worriedly at the blond elf. "It does."

~*~

Galadriel strolled down past the training grounds, slipping almost invisibly through the trees that bordered the path. It was becoming quite dark in the forests at this time in the evening, for the rich golden light that filled the open fields and meadows did not extend this far into the undergrowth.

She could just see the narrow beams of light filtering through from the open meadow to her right, and as she walked further down towards the river, she could make out a small boy standing alone at the end of one field, drawing back his bow again and again.

It looked like a solitary task, and frowning slightly, she watched the child intently as she wandered along the rough tracks that ran behind the hedges that bordered the fields. As she got closer she realised that her grandson was not - as she had feared - alone, but was being supervised by a tall elf lounging against a tree just in front of her.

Unfortunately the elf seemed to be paying little real attention to the child, and was instead scribbling some official document, and occasionally looking up to make some critical comment. Each time the criticism was shouted, Elladan's shoulders would sag slightly, and he would walk across the field to fetch his arrows before starting again.

Moving silently, she crept forwards and sat down beside the blond elf, smirking inwardly as he started and then tried to pretend that he had known that she had been behind him all along.

"Caught at unawares, Glorfindel of Gondolin." Galadriel smiled slightly at the flustered-looking Balrog-slayer then, noticing that her grandson had come to a halt at the sound of voices, beckoned the child forward. She could tell that he was tired from the way that his chin was drooping and each new step barely cleared the short trampled grass. "Come and sit down, Elladan."

As Elladan gathered his arrows and traipsed tiredly across the grass to join them, Galadriel looked thoughtfully at Glorfindel. "He is tired."

"He works hard." Glorfindel said firmly. "And he is tired at the end of the lesson. As it should be."

Galadriel looked back at her grandson as he stumbled over a tussock of grass, and spoke equally firmly. "He is wilting."

"He is. . ." Glorfindel's assertion trailed off as the child reached his grandmother and Galadriel caught hold of the small hands. "He works hard."

Ignoring the last, rather lame sounding comment, Galadriel carefully turned Elladan's hands over in her own. He had obviously been practicing for longer than was wise, for several patches on his hands were red and hot to the touch, and here and there she could see signs of blisters forming.

"How old are you, Elladan?" Galadriel asked calmly, binding the handful of short arrows together, and helping to sling the bow over the child's shoulder.

Elladan gave her a rather puzzled look, and spoke in a quiet hurt tone. "I am nine, Galadriel. Did you not remember?"

"Oh course I remember." Galadriel sat up on her knees to kiss Elladan's forehead. "You are nearly ten."

"Yes." Elladan nodded firmly, leaning sleepily against his grandmother's shoulder. "When I am ten, I am to have a bow of my own."

"Yes, I have heard that." Galadriel smiled at him and tapped her nose gently, causing the elfling to beam in delight. "Now, why do you not run along to your bath?"

Elladan looked questioningly at Glorfindel. "But I. . ."

"You are excused." Glorfindel supplied when prompted by a glare from the Lady of Lorien, adding quietly. "We can make up the time tomorrow."

"I am not allowed to walk up alone." Elladan reminded him, looking longingly at the path that led up through the valley to his bed. He normally enjoyed his lessons, but today he was so tired, and Glorfindel had made him practice the same exercise again and again.

"You run along." Galadriel pointed towards the bend where the path curved behind some trees. "I shall follow you in a minute. There is just something that I must speak to Glorfindel about first."

As Elladan trotted off a little uncertainly, Galadriel turned to the Balrog- slayer, her mouth drawing into a thin line.

"Well?"

~*~

The sun was almost completely set over the distant snowy mountaintops by now, and the shadowed arches and terraces of Imladris were slowly lighting up as lanterns and lights were kindled. Someone had lit the soft lights that hung from the gables of the terrace outside the family quarters whilst Elrohir had been having his flute lesson, and now the benches and balustrades were highlighted by the gentle silver glow.

Elrohir scampered across the terrace to lean over the balustrades, hoping to catch sight of his mother or father amidst the darkening undergrowth. There was nobody left on the terrace at this hour save for his grandfather, and there was nobody that Elrohir less wanted to spend time with at this point. Unfortunately though, he could see no sign of his parents or any of their guests. He would not have minded talking with Mithrandir and hearing tales of the hobbits in a faraway land called the Shire, or finding Elladan and playing shadow tag in the gardens, but they all seemed to be busy.

Finally giving up on the attempt to catch anyone's attention, Elrohir walked slowly back to the bench and sat down, silently practicing the fingering on his flute as he watched the last of the sun inch slowly below the horizon and the pink tinge of the clouds slowly fade to grey. He half wished that Celeborn would turn from his silent observation of the mountains and say something to him, even if it was only criticism. It was lonely sitting alone here, and somehow the thought that his grandfather did not even care about him hurt more than the fear that he might be thinking him boring.

Sighing, the younger twin leant back against the wall and stretched his legs out before him and wiggled his toes from side to side. The tie on his left moccasin was becoming thin and would soon break. He would have to remember to ask Ammë to mend it for him.

"Elrohir." Celeborn spoke gently, and sat down beside the boy, a little discouraged by the way that he inched away from him. The elfling had been trying to ignore his approaching shadow for a while now, but now that his grandfather was sitting but an arm's reach away he was not entirely sure what to do. Part of him wanted to scoot across the seat and into a cuddle, but part of him wanted to remain aloof and make his grandfather work harder before he was willing to forgive him. "How was your flute lesson?"

"It was good." Elrohir said in a troubled voice, digging one toe into the heel of the other moccasin and trying to lever it off. This necessitated such a degree of concentration that it was impossible for him to make eye contact with his grandfather.

"When I was your age, I had a flute of my own too." Celeborn commented, lightly touching the small flute that his grandson held. "Although it was not as fine as your one, of course."

"You did?" The child's voice became high-pitched with interest and he turned excitedly to his grandfather before remembering that he was offended and adding in a dubious voice, "Did you not think that that was boring?"

Celeborn frowned and looked at Elrohir with a touch of anxiety. "Naturally not. I enjoy playing my flute, and I would not do it if I found it boring."

"Oh. . ." Elrohir scowled down at his knees then peeped up at his grandfather from the corners of his eyes. "You would not be talking to me if you thought I was boring, would you?"

"Oh course not," Celeborn smiled rather bemusedly at Elrohir who was beaming in delight. "You are special to me. I could never find my own grandson boring."

"Oh good." Elrohir shuffled across the bench until he was leaning contentedly against his grandfather. "Do you still play the flute, Celeborn?"

"I do." Celeborn leant back against the wall and wrapped an arm around his grandson's shoulders. Elrohir felt so warm and trusting, and Celeborn realised that he had missed him over the past days. "Do you know what a duet is?"

~*~

The valley of Imladris lay quiet in the darkness by now, the woodlands black under the deep blue of the sky. The moon was high tonight, lighting the rushing water silver-grey and seeming to dim the stars by comparison. Apart from the slow patrolling of the elves on duty all was silent and still, most inhabitants of the valley being long abed. Only one single figure lingered, sitting silently in the amber glow of a lantern up the highest balcony of Imladris.

Celeborn sat on a low stone bench that ran around the base of the watchtower, a sharp curved knife in his hand and a block of strong seasoned wood in his lap. Several small pots of paint and varnish were arranged on the bench beside him, along with scraps of brightly colour silk and linen, fragments of parchment, and tiny bits of metal scrap.

Something that Elrohir had said had bothered him, and he would not sleep this night until he had set things right. He had often made toys and puzzles for his daughter in the past, and it seemed that like swimming, it was something that one never forgot. Throughout the hours of darkness the small army that stood proudly on the bench beside him grew in size until there were some twenty tiny elves in waiting.

Finally, as the sun rose once more over the distant hills, Celeborn placed three small figures to stand on the bench beside him to dry with the others in the early morning sun. A counsellor, a healer and a scribe.

Elrond carefully placed the figures back into the box and covered the small legions with a layer of soft cloth to keep them cushioned and safe. Not that they really needed that kind of care. They had survived many years of play, mistreatment and rough love. He had rescued them from roofs, fished them out of ponds, and touched up the paintwork so many times that he could no longer remember the original colour. He had not wanted to spoil his sons with too many treats and toys for such young children to appreciate, but those that they had had been used almost constantly for years. Mind you, they had often used things that were not strictly toys for their own purposes on numerous occasions.

The large barrels used to store potatoes and apples throughout the winters were a case in point. As very tiny elflings they had loved playing inside them, pretending to be dwarves in Moria, but by their ninth summer they had found more inventive uses for them - especially the thick round wooden lids studded with blackened nails. Some were classics such as the rather dangerous swing that he and Glorfindel had once made the boys by threading a thick rope through the centre hole in one of the lids, and stringing it from a old oak tree that hung over a steep drop to a pond. Others however were new to them, and one in particular had - rather uncharacteristically - been introduced by their grandfather.

~*~

Celeborn walked slowly down grey-lit passageway, the stone paving smooth and cold under his bare feet, and passed softly through the high arched doorway that led into the twins' bedroom. The dawn was just breaking over the hills and the still air had the cool freshness that promised of another hot and dry day.

The boys both lay peacefully in their slumbers, one sprawled on his stomach with his arms encircling his head, and the other curled up, resting his right cheek on his clenched fist. Their dark hair fell forward over their flushed faces and their lashes flickered slightly as they wandered in their dream worlds.

Moving silently, Celeborn crossed to a large rocking chair that had once been Celebrian's traditional seat as she fed and tended to her babies, and sat down on the edge of the seat, using his feet to steady the rockers lest the noise wake the children. All was soft and silent in the House of Elrond as yet, the valley of Imladris enveloped in watchful peace, and it would remain that way for some hours yet. Smiling a little, Celeborn settled back in the chair. When they woke he had a suggestion to make to them, but for the present he was content to watch for a while and remember.

~*~

"He would not come." Celeborn said loudly, striding into the bedchamber that he shared with his wife and drumming his fingers in irritation on the wooden chest on which the basin was set. "He said that he would rather practice archery."

"Elladan?" Galadriel raised her face from the basin and held out a hand. Her husband automatically reached to the pile of soft clean towels and unfolded it, being careful to keep the embroidered daisy chains away from the side on which his wife would dry her face. Celebrian would have worked on those stitches herself, working smoothly and carefully, trying to find the most appealing combination of colours. He had a similar towel at home, one that was good for no further use, but he could not bear to throw it out. She had worked so hard on it that summer, pricking her fingers and mistakenly sewing the fabric to her dress, and the memory of her determination and effort was kept safe inside every wobbling and misshapen petal. Apparently unaware of her husband's thoughts, Galadriel took the towel and patted her wet face. "My thanks. Did he say why?"

Celeborn shook his head with no small amount of irritation. "He gave no apology or reason. He merely repeated his assertion."

"That did not please you." Galadriel stated calmly as she put the damp towel down and surveyed her face in the mirror. "You wished the boy to join you."

"No, it is not that." Celeborn said firmly, fetching a pair of socks from a drawer of their dresser. "I shall have Elrohir. I care not whether the child accompanies me or not."

"Oh," Galadriel's eyebrows arched elegantly upwards. "You are speaking rather loudly for one that does not care."

Celeborn frowned deeply and sat down heavily on the bed, lowering his voice nevertheless. "I worry that he may become upset. He will not admit that he wishes to come."

Galadriel nodded slowly as she plaited some fine braids to keep her hair from her face. "He should rest from his archery today. His hands are sore and it will be a long day for him tomorrow. Ask him again."

Celeborn scowled at this order and dragged his boots toward his feet with an inelegant speed. "He did not wish to come. I shall not grovel at his feet."

"But you wish him to come." Galadriel said gently, searching through a small wooden box for the brooch that she wished to wear. "Do you not?"

Her voice was softly questioning, but her demeanour did not fool Celeborn for a moment. She knew what bothered him, just as she had always done. She would not interfere in his affairs unasked, but slowly, subtly she would make comments and advice that would bring him round to her thinking.

"He brings back memories of one that I love." Celeborn frowned slightly and undid the top three holes of his boots to adjust the lacing. "One that I miss."

Galadriel looked at him for a moment then slowly crossed the room to sit at his side. She rested the fingers of one hand onto the back of one of her husband's and applied slight pressure in a gesture of comfort. "The trees are quiet without her. The woods have not been the same since she left."

"No." Celeborn said shortly, shaking his head with a grim look. He rarely spoke of the depth of his sorrow at not seeing his daughter each day, and when he did, it was seldom aloud. After a moment's silence he resumed in an impassioned voice. "He is so stubborn and determined. He does not know of his place and he cares not for it. The child must always have his own way!"

"He is nine. You are not." Galadriel said sternly, the severity of her words lessened by a beautiful smile. "And of those that I love, it is not Celebrian I see in him."

~*~

Elladan swung grumpily back and forth on the swing, sometimes trailing his moccasins in the dust, and sometimes using his legs to bounce himself off the trunk of the tree with a satisfying and disgruntled thud.

He had said that he did not want to go with his grandfather, but he did now. He had wanted to then really, but Celeborn had asked Elrohir, and he was too proud to go if he was only going because someone felt sorry for him. He wanted to be Elladan, not "Elladan too". He had never had to be second best before now. Elrohir probably did not even want him to go anyway.

Thud. Elladan kicked back off the tree with all his force, trying to make himself fly up the old gnarled branches and the thick green shadow of the leaves.

They would be getting ready to go without him. Elrohir would be running to fetch his oldest shorts and tunic and the brightly painted wooden ball that they used for throwing and catching games. Ammë had gone to fill the old picnic satchel with sandwiches and apples, and ginger biscuits because they were Elrohir's favourite. There would be some bandages and soothing lotion too, knowing Ammë, and a set of spare clothes. He did not know what his grandfather would be doing, but he was sure that it would be something fun and exciting. He had told Elrohir that he would teach him something new that their mother had once enjoyed. Although he had tried to pretend that no proper boy would want to do anything a girl liked doing, Elrohir had known that he had been lying.

Thud. Elladan kicked back again, watching the colours of the leaves blur together beneath him. If he looked up he could quickly catch glimpses of blue sky or bright sunlight filtering down through the canopy highlighting the corners and edges of leaves a lighter green.

He had thought that his grandfather had liked him a bit better now, especially since they had been practising fencing together, but if he wished to go off with Elrohir again and have adventures then perhaps he had been wrong. Maybe with grandparents if somebody did not like you at first then they would never like you. His Ada had always said that he felt sorry for those that could not forgive, but Celeborn and Galadriel were an awful lot older and wiser than Ada. No wonder Glorfindel had always said that you should think hard before getting cross with anyone. He did not think that he wanted to stay angry with Celeborn and Cirdan forever.

Thud. Swinging by yourself when your brother and grandfather were going off on a picnic together was not actually very fun, even if you got to keep the swing all to yourself. There was nobody to be impressed by how high you could swing, and nobody to scramble on together with and pretend to be sailing a ship in the sky. Elrohir and his grandfather were probably almost ready to leave by now. He had heard his grandfather speak to his Ada about scrambling up the mountain path to the gully with the rapids. He had not been up there yet this summer, but it was the perfect place for a picnic and ramble. He and his brother had always played 'Hide and Seek' together behind the boulders and they had found a large flat rock a little way away from the river that you could slide down. The water was all frothy and bubbly and it would be nice and cold even on such a hot day as this.

The track up to the gully wound its way round some steep hillsides and past crab apple and rowan trees. The rowanberries would be ripe by now, bright clusters of reds and oranges amongst the leaves, and they made a sharp fruity smell when crushed between their fingers. Last summer, he and Elrohir had each gathered a handful of berries and had spent the remainder of the journey ambushing Glorfindel and bombarding him from their positions deep in the heather and bracken.

"Elladan!" A voice said loudly, and the child attempted to spin round, trying to see who had sneaked up on him. "Be careful!"

A wise warning, for it was really rather difficult to balance on a swing when twisting round, and even more difficult to see the tree approaching when you were looking the other way.

"Ouch!" The swing hit the tree with a muffled thud, throwing Elladan off into the long grass and deep green dock leaves.

"Elladan!" Rather alarmed at his grandson's hasty and not particularly graceful dismount, Celeborn began dashing across the grass to the child's side, only slowing slightly when Elladan sat slowly up, rubbing his head with a rather dazed expression. "Are you all right?"

The elfling pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked at his grandfather who had knelt down beside him with an expression of confusion.

"I fell off." The child sounded honestly surprised, as if this was not something that he had ever considered before. "I already had a big bruise."

"Aye." Frowning slightly, Celeborn gently lifted the child's hand away from his temple and brushed the dark hair away from the discoloured patch. "And now you have a little cut too."

"Is it bleeding?" Elladan asked with more interest than worry, and lifted a finger to rub at the wound.

"It has already stopped." Celeborn said solemnly and caught the small hand in his to avoid the child rubbing off the forming scab. "It will soon be better."

"Oh." Elladan leant back against the older elf's knees and picked some bits of bark and leaf off his tunic. "Why did I have to hit my head where it already hurt, Celeborn?"

"I do not know, little one." Celeborn helped the boy into his arms and got to his feet, lifting Elladan up to lightly press his lips against the wounded forehead. "Does it hurt badly?"

Elladan shook his head quickly, burying his head into the long silvery hair so that nobody would suspect that he had tears in his eyes. Despite that his grandfather patted his back gently, and it felt so comforting that he did not wriggle away, and by the time that they reached the steps up to the north hallway he felt ready to be set back down on the ground again.

"Elrohir will be sad without you, Elladan." Celeborn grasped his grandson's hand in his own and walked slowly down the hall, giving the child time to jump on only every third stone and hop on the ones engraved with leaves or stars.

Elladan did not respond, frowning as he considered first jumping to the star stone and then the leaf stone, or simply swinging on his grandfather's arm to his desired target. Celeborn's arm felt good and strong, and it was not as if it would drop off.

"I would be sad without you," throwing his dignity to the wind, Celeborn crouched down opposite the boy. "Will you please come, Elladan?"

Elladan scowled for a moment as if making an important decision, then smiled suddenly. "All right then. If you really want me to."

"I would like that." Celeborn grinned down at his grandchild and began striding along the wide passageway that led to the courtyard. "Let us find your brother!"

Elrohir was standing alone in the courtyard, looking rather dejected as he kept guard over the satchel, a rolled up rug, and a pile of smooth round wooden lids. There were three lids, and when he saw them coming Elrohir's face lit up and he jumped up and down waving, letting both of their special swimming towels fall to the ground. "Elladan! Elladan!"

"'Ro!" Elladan let go of his grandfather's hand and sprinted along the hallway and leapt down some steps with arms outstretched, eager to reach his brother's side and tell him the exciting news. "I am coming 'Ro!"

Cheering loudly, Elrohir grabbed both his brother's hands and bounced on his toes as he explained all about their plans in a very loud and high- pitched voice, clearly audible across the courtyard. Giving an apologetic look to the guards on duty, Celeborn walked over to join them and handed a towel and barrel lid to each child before picking up the remaining items himself.

"Now, are we ready?" Celeborn grabbed each child by the hand to prevent them skipping around him at dizzying speed, and looked up to the balcony to share a secret smile with his daughter. "We should be going if we wish to swim before we eat."

"Yes!" Elrohir danced on the spot, seeming not to notice that his brother had come to an abrupt halt. "Come on, Celeborn! Let's go!"

Celeborn started across the courtyard, but was held back by his elder grandson dragging his feet and looking miserably at the ground.

"Elladan," the Lord of Lorien bent down to look at the child, admirably controlling his frustration, "Are you not going to come?"

"Yes. . ." Elladan hesitated, rubbing his left moccasin against his other ankle

"Yes?" Celeborn frowned as he tried to understand what had caused the child's sudden change of heart.

"But. . ." Elladan sucked in his top lip and tugged on Celeborn's arm, swinging himself in semicircles. He wanted to go so badly, but if he was not invited then there was bound not to be enough for him to eat, and then everybody would wish that he had not come after all. "But I shall not be hungry."

Raising his silver brows questioningly at the child's unhappy murmur, the Lord of Lorien looked hard at his grandson. Celebrian had always been such an easy child compared to this one, and he was not used to these complex guessing games. Fortunately, before he could become too frustrated, he noticed the uneasy looks that Elladan was giving the satchel that he had slung over his shoulder.

"There is enough packed for you, Elladan. Do not worry." Celeborn looked down at the elder twin's face and smiled kindly. "I did not intend to leave you behind."

~*~

"And now? Can we go now?"

"I am ready!"

The twins stood waist deep in the fast flowing river, the frothing water surging around their shorts, and the barrel covers bobbing eagerly in the wake. The river was wide and deep at this point in its path, rushing down across the rapids and smooth water-carved stones as it swept through the heather and gorse covered highlands.

"Already? You are quick!" Celeborn finished unlacing his boots and leapt from the high side of the bank, gathered two small tunics and damp pairs of moccasins into his arms to place them in a safe nook under an overhanging boulder, and crossed the shingle to step into the icy water. He had brought up a third, larger barrel cover for himself, and while it would not allow him to float and ride as the twins would do, if should make it easier to keep a watchful eye on the children. "Now, this shall help you."

He took two short lengths of thin rope and knotted each through the hole in the barrel covers before forming a thin loop on the other end for the boys to wear about their wrists. He did not wish either to lose their lid and then launch into a tearful squabble over the ownership of the remaining one.

"Elladan." He handed one loop to the elder twin, and held the other open for Elrohir to thread his hand through. "You do not wish to let them float away."

Once the lids were loosely fastened to their wrists, the twins found it hard to contain their excitement. They let their lids go to bob a little way downstream before pulling them back to repeat the exercise, and jumped and splashed in the water. Although the river came down from the glaciers of the Misty Mountains and was icy even in summer, the sunshine was warm and there was little wind, so the coolness of the water was welcome in the heat.

"Can we go now?" Elladan asked impatiently, throwing himself bodily onto his lid so that he lay supported on the buoyant wood, his face inches from the clear water.

"Please?" Elrohir grabbed hold of his grandfather's bare shoulder, supporting himself as he struggled to find his balance on the lid. The wood bobbed away from under him when he tried to sit normally, and it took quite a while to find a position that was both comfortable and steady. "I think I am ready, Celeborn."

At his younger grandson's serious assertion, Celeborn removed his arm from around the younger child's back and grabbed hold of his own barrel lid as he used his leg to prevent the elfling from floating off. The water was rushing past them, eager to race down the long winding path to the sea, and pulling on their floats. Both boys seemed to be safely perched on their lids, and were only managing to contain their impatience and excitement with great difficulty. Grinning at his grandsons' bright smiles and wide eyes, Celeborn leapt onto the float and with a loud battle cry released the children.

"For Imladris!"

"Imladris!"

The twins' roars echoed over the valley at the same moment, and the three went rushing down the rapids, surging along with the foaming water.

~*~

After many rides and finally tired out, the twins and their grandfather traipsed up the narrow path at a slow pace, abandoning the barrel lids at the shingle beach and continuing up the slope to sit in the shelter of a small cairn on a minor highpoint in the flat of the valley. The boys were cold and hungry and after spending a few minutes watching them bicker over towels as they attempted to pull their tunics over damp and shivering bodies, Celeborn sat down on a large flat stone, bundled a child onto each knee and wrapped a large woollen rug around the three of them.

A little abashed by this treatment at an age of very nearly ten but really rather grateful of the warmth nevertheless, the twins rather half-heartedly showed their displeasure by pulling at the blanket in an attempt to ensure that they got their fair share. Chuckling inwardly at the way their mock scowls kept breaking into contented smiles, Celeborn wrapped an arm around each child's back and drew them close to his body. They cuddled up to him, pressing their bodies against his own and drawing the tickling woven wool up to their chins and noses. He could feel their hearts beating steadily in perfect rhythm, and the intensity of their shivers becoming less frequent as they became warmer and their cold clammy shorts began to dry.

It was beautiful up here, sitting up on the bare and windswept peak, and looking out over the bleak expanse of the highlands. The rough ground swept up to the proud brown and grey hills into the distance. Granite boulders and rocky outcrops mingled with the pinks and purples of heather and the bright yellow of the gorse. Here and there berry bushes would grow on the banks, promising a few sour wild red currants, or bilberries that would stain their faces and hands with purple juice.

"Celeborn," A tentative voice disturbed the ancient elf from his reverie and shaking his head slightly he turned his attention down to his younger grandson and listened, "is it time to eat yet?"

The child's grey eyes were intent, and when Celeborn turned to his satchel he found that Elladan had already reached for it and was leaning out from his arms to fumble at the buckles with cold fingers.

"You are hungry?" The Lord of Lorien spoke with a hint of laughter as he swung the bulging satchel into his own lap and deftly undid the straps and fastenings. It seemed as if his grandsons had inherited his daughter's talent for seeking out food from wherever it was hidden. "Already?"

"Already?" Elladan exclaimed scornfully. "I bet it is nearly dinnertime, let alone midday!"

"No. . ." Elrohir said slowly, frowning as he surveyed the position of the sun in the sky. "It is but an hour or two past noon. But I am very hungry, Celeborn!"

Grinning at the firmness of the child's assertion, Celeborn nodded proudly at the child's correct identification of the time, unwrapped three overfilled ham and cheese rolls and handed them around to his grandsons' eager fingers. "As am I, Elrohir. As am I."

Elrohir gratefully took his sandwich, and leant back against his grandfather's shoulder to eat it. "Thank you."

"Thank. . ." Elladan took a huge bite of his roll and chewed and swallowed with a speed that suggested that he had been starving for months rather than merely since breakfast time. "Thank you, Celeborn."

The trio sat in companionable silence as they ate, the twins leaning heavily against their grandfather as they watched the breeze rustle through the rushes and create ripples on the slower flowing water of the pools. Finally as their hunger waned and they settled into nibbling shapes out of biscuits, their conversation once again bubbled up excitedly.

"Can we go on the rapids again?" Elladan swivelled around on his grandfather's bare knee to look pleadingly at him. "I think that if I balanced just right I could stand. . ."

"No." Celeborn said firmly, pressing a finger to the child's mouth to silence the inevitable protest. There were many rocks and boulders amidst the rapids and whilst the elflings were quite safe crouched or sprawled on the wooden floats, he had no wish to have to explain to his daughter how one or the other child had managed to break their legs or arms. "But if you sit, then we shall."

Elladan nodded happily at this. He had not really expected his grandfather to agree with his plan, and since his other idea - holding hands as they descended the rapids - had not been banned, he still had a fun afternoon ahead of him.

"We shall show you the sliding rock!" Elrohir promised cheerfully, scrambling up onto his feet to balance on his grandfather's leg and pointed across the river to a large boulder behind some gorse bushes whilst gripping the large shoulder with his other hand. "You can slip right down really fast!"

"And we shall play 'Hide and Seek'," Elladan grinned mischievously. Celeborn would not know of the hollowed out cave underneath one of the boulders. He and his brother would both be able to lie in the low cleft, sniggering as they watched their grandfather search high and low for them. "It is fun here."

"Very well," Celeborn lifted first one elfling then the other down onto the ground and rubbed the towel quickly over their wet hair. He handed a tunic to each boy, reflecting that a vigorous running and chasing game to warm up their small bodies seemed to be in order. "Shall I count to twenty?"

~*~

Eventually as the afternoon wore on and the shadows lengthened, the twins of Imladris and their grandfather returned to the valley - Elrohir hand in hand with the older elf and Elladan gleefully riding high on the muscular shoulders, reaching to grasp all the brightest bunches of berries and the highest leaves.

"I can. . . I have a crab apple!" Elladan leant unwisely far from his grandfather's shoulders to grab at a branch and pull it toward him to access the small red and yellow fruit. "Yummy!"

"Elladan," Elrohir hopped up and down on the path, trying to grab hold of one of his brother's dangling feet, "Can you pass me one?"

"Stop tickling then!" Elladan ordered, lifting up his left leg to avoid his brother's fingers. "Here."

Elladan leant down to hand his brother his crab apple before stretching back up to fetch two more - one for himself and one for his grandfather. "They are tasty!"

"Not too many, boys." Celeborn dutifully ate his fruit, wondering how children that could detect a small amount of turnip in with their carrots and swede seemed not to notice that these were still rather under-ripe as yet. "They have not yet had time to become sweet."

"I like them anyway." Elladan informed him, throwing the stalk into a hazel bush beside the path. "They make our tongues curl up."

"And," Elrohir finished swallowing his apple, "if you chew it up and suck the juice through your teeth it is delicious!"

"Aye," Celeborn said doubtfully, then darted an arm down to pin the child against his leg and tickle his stomach mercilessly. "But if you eat too many, your tummy will go all wurgly."

"No. . . no. . . stop!" Elrohir squealed, dropping down onto to his knees where he knew that his grandfather would not be able to reach him without risking dropping Elladan. "Not that wurgly!"

Chuckling, Celeborn held out a hand to help Elrohir back to his feet. "If you eat too many then your tummy will not want to do archery tomorrow."

"No." Elrohir bounced back up to his feet with a smile, but Celeborn felt Elladan stiffen slightly. Not aware of this, Elrohir continued happily. "I want to come first! I have been practising really hard. My training master told me that I deserved to win."

Frowning deeply, Elladan glowered down at his brother and gripped his grandfather's hair rather more tightly than was necessary. Training masters should not take sides. That was unfair. Nobody had told him that he deserved to win, and he had tried hard too.

"I shall get to be the first." Elrohir beamed, skipping nimbly over a rock. Squinting against the sun he looked up at his brother and smiled broadly. "You always get to come first, Elladan, but tomorrow I shall have a turn."

Elladan's frown lessened slightly, and he kicked his foot against his grandfather's chest with enough force to make the Lorien elf catch hold of it to prevent further assaults. He had never thought about it that way, but perhaps Elrohir felt unhappy and frustrated like this every time they had contests. But he could not do, because he always smiled and was excited about them.

"Everyone shall be nice to you, and Ammë shall make your favourite things for the picnic." Elrohir nodded seriously at his brother and smiled slightly as he contemplated the upcoming contest. "But when you win, Ada always gives you a special hug and looks proud, and Glorfindel will throw you up in the air and cheer. I think I would like that."

Interested by the conversation but feeling that he should not interfere, Celeborn kept a carefully bland expression and walked as smoothly as he could manage to avoid disturbing the pair.

"But. . . but Ada always says how proud he is of you." Elladan said slowly, trying to think of what happened to Elrohir when they finished the contests. To his shame he could think of little but his own jealousy when Glorfindel would set him down to play rough and tumble with Elrohir. "You have fun too!"

He was sure that Elrohir had fun. Why else would he have spent the night before the last contest listening to him chatter about it? If he did not like not winning then why did he not just refuse to take part?

"Yes. . ." Elrohir bit his lip slightly and looked up thoughtfully at his brother. "But it will be nice to be special just once. I would like the other elves to tell Ammë and Ada how well I have done, instead of talking about you all the time."

"They talk about me?" Elladan asked, perking up a little.

"All the time." Elrohir said a little grumpily. "About how good you are at everything, and how proud Ada must be, and how you will be a great captain when you are older. They never say anything about me."

"Oh." Elladan said worriedly, frowning as he thought. No wonder Elrohir never said well done to him when he won. He did not think that he would enjoy contests at all if he lost all the time. Smiling a little, he leant down to pat his brother's shoulder. "They will tomorrow though, 'Ro."
~*~

To the twins' disappointment, once they reached home and had told everyone all about their exciting day and the new game that they had learnt, Celeborn had slumped into one of the chairs on the terrace and refused to move - even when tempted with the prospect of practising fencing or archery. Eventually Celebrian took pity on her father, and sent the two excited little boys away to play elsewhere for a while - Elrohir to fetch his flute and run off to a lesson with Erestor, and Elladan down to the meadows and woodlands to play with his friends.

Unfortunately though, Elladan was not sure that he wanted to play with his friends today. There was always the worry that boys from his training group would be there, and if there were many of them, then they often would not let him join in with their games. Although Iorwë would always run to play with him if asked, Elladan did not want to play with someone so much younger than him all the time. And in any case if Iorwë played with him too much, then people might begin being mean to him too, and he did not want that.

Lost in thought, Elladan wandered wherever his feet took him, drifting down through the trees towards the meadows and river. Not quite willing to go and join in the noise and activity of the games, he walked slowly around the edge of the woods to a small hollow where they often made snow forts in the winter. It faced south and was sheltered from the harsh winds by a steep rock wall that was covered in ivy and creepers. The ground in the hollow was covered in dry leaves and hay that they had hoarded from when one of the nearby fields was baled. The sun was bright through the sparse trees, and he could watch the other boys playing 'Fishnets' - a game where children took it in turns to try and run through the other team's net of held hands. It was a favourite game of his, but he did not feel like playing it today.

He wanted to think about what Elrohir had said. He was not sure that he even wanted to win anymore, not if it meant so much to his brother. Perhaps it was only fair that they should take turns at winning sometimes. Even if it did mean that he would have to do badly in front of everyone. If he lost then the other boys in his training group would laugh at him, glad of something to taunt him for. Everybody would think that he was really bad if he had practised with Glorfindel and still could not shoot well. Maybe Glorfindel would even be ashamed of him when he saw how bad he was. He did not want people to be ashamed of him or pity him. But if he won he did not think that it would feel as good as he had once thought that it would, not now that he knew how Elrohir would be feeling.

"They play that on the beaches." A voice spoke sadly from somewhere above him, and Elladan flinched backward against the rock in his surprise. It took him a moment to identify the voice as that of the shipwright, and judging from the shadows that fell into the dell then Mithrandir was with him. Ashamed at not having heard them approach, Elladan froze in position, trying not to breathe lest he should be discovered. While the rock behind was taller than an elfling, he doubted that it even came up to the shipwright's waist, and it would offer him precious little camouflage should either of the guests look down. "I remember him teaching them this game."

"He has brought them much joy." Mithrandir's voice was consoling although Elladan could tell from the shadows that Cirdan was looking away from him, into the trees. "I am sure that in turn, Elrond's own sons have been taught the rules."

"He would have loved to meet them. They are good children." Cirdan said slowly then spoke more briskly. "Although they are but small and foolish as all infants are. Look at the boats they sail. Have they no sense?"

Mithrandir chuckled tolerantly. He had already heard much of the shipwright's views on the children of Imladris' ability at shipbuilding, for it had been he who had been walking with him when they had passed the bridge from which a group of youngsters were launching pieces of bark speared with a stick and leaf, or crudely hewn models. The shipwright did not easily suffer fools, even if they were but a fraction of his age.

"A little attention to detail and a little more sense in selecting the design. What is the purpose of a sail if it cannot be turned to the wind?" Cirdan said brusquely, frowning as he remembered how often the small ships had tipped over and the disappointment of the children when they had done so. "Someone should explain the principles to them. If they just understood. . ."

Scowling viciously at the ground, Elladan wrinkled his nose and slapped the fingers and thumb of one hand together like a yattering goose. Trust Lord Cirdan to see the worst of everything. He had made a boat himself once, and while it was nowhere near as nice as his treasured gift, he had still been proud of it. And he had designed it all by himself without anyone helping him.

"Did you. . ." Cirdan asked with a note of puzzlement, looking around for the source of the noise. He had almost thought that he had heard a slight tapping noise, but his companion seemed not to be aware of the disturbance.

More worried than he was quite prepared to admit to himself, Elladan held his breath and pressed himself against the rock, curling his fists tightly around the thick stems of the ivy. Lord Cirdan already thought bad things of him, and because of that, his Ada as well. If he found him again then he would be in so much trouble.

For a moment he thought that he had escaped reprimand, for he heard Mithrandir saying, "A bird, perhaps. Come, why do you not explain to the infants yourself. . ."

"What. . ." Cirdan had apparently not been dissuaded from his search by this tempting suggestion, for there was a rustling noise and someone reached downwards and grasped the back of his tunic, hauling him up above the level of the bank. "You again!"

Flinching back at the shipwright's exasperated boom, Elladan scowled at his captor and wriggled violently in an attempt to be let down. This was not even his fault. How was he supposed to stop overhearing things if people did not remember to check for people who might accidentally overhear them before speaking? He had been hiding here first anyway, it was not his fault that Lord Cirdan had chosen to stop and talk here.

"A small spy, indeed." Cirdan's voice was dry as he observed the child, but to Elladan's relief he did not seem as angry as he had done before, more resigned than anything. "I am not fond of eavesdroppers, Master Elladan."

Burning inside at the injustice of this comment, Elladan glared at the ancient elf and kicked in the air until he was set down.

"I was not eavesdropping!" Elladan put his hands on his hips and craned his neck back to give the shipwright the full effect of his hate-filled look. "You should look where you are talking before saying important things. I would not talk about sneaking out of bed in front of Ada!"

The shipwright's bushy brows rose playfully at this, and he looked at Mithrandir with an expression that Elladan did not understand. The wizard's mouth was twitching in the manner that it often did when he wished to laugh, and the wrinkles around his eyes seemed deepened.

"You have been told, Master Shipwright." Mithrandir said solemnly then added rather more teasingly. "Consider yourself lucky not to find a sword in your neck."

The two adults began chuckling, and feeling as if he was the butt of a joke that he did not understand, Elladan took advantage of their distraction to slink off to join his friends. Sometimes he did not understand grown-ups at all.

~*~

"There we are." Celebrian fastened the last of Elrohir's braids with a tightly knotted strip of leather, and got up from her knees, using one hand to gently turn the child round as she admired the result. She had taken special care with her sons' hair, knowing that they would wish to run and jump and skip with the other young elves - something that was sure to shake even the most carefully woven hair from its braids. "Be careful with your circlets."

She carefully opened each of the flat wooden boxes carved with the children's names and the insignia of Imladris, and lifted the small silver circlet from the velvet lining. They had been a gift at the time of the twins' birth and although the boys looked quite adorable when wearing them, she had always been a little anxious lest they should accidentally poke each other's eyes out with the blunt ends.

"Elladan." The elder twin stepped forward and she placed the circlet on the dark head, kneeling down again to ensure that it lay straight then repeated the exercise with her youngest. "You both look lovely."

The twins were indistinguishable tonight to all but the most familiar eye, their dress identical from their fine shoes to their pale blue silk tunics and matching circlets. In a few years, Celebrian noted with a touch of sadness, they would be old enough to wear shirts and leggings under their tunics, and after that, formal gowns in shades to complement their father's. Tonight though, despite their eagerness to be fully-grown and able to wear boots and wield spears, both would have complained bitterly if forced into the garments that her husband would wear. It was a sweltering night with little breeze, and they were glad of their bare legs and arms.

"Are we ready?" Elladan hopped from foot to foot, not entirely happy with the heavy feeling of the new and unfamiliar shoes. He was excited about the celebration; especially the cakes and pastries that he had seen being carried through into the hall earlier today, and everything seemed to be taking so long. If they did not hurry then the soldiers of the Guard would eat everything all up.

"May we read our book whilst we wait, Ammë?" Elrohir tugged on his mother's hand for attention. Another of their gifts at birth had been a lavishly illustrated history of ages gone by, and although the boys were still rather too young for such a fine volume, they were usually allowed to read from it and admire the pictures as a special treat when they were waiting for their parents to dress for a formal occasion - the care that the twins took to avoid damaging the precious book usually ensured that their garments remained equally tidy.

"Of course," Celebrian tightened her grip on Elrohir's hand and held out an open palm for Elladan to grasp. "If you are very careful."

"We are always very careful." Elladan slipped his hand into his mother's and began pulling her toward the doorway. "And we have nothing with which to dirty it. I am too clean, Ammë."

Laughing, Celebrian allowed herself to be led out to the passageway that ran down to her own bedroom. She had bathed and changed into her undergarments before dressing the boys, but in the interests of preventing creases and accidents she rarely donned her chosen gown until the last minutes before the event. With luck her husband would be almost ready, and as she had already laid out matching garments for him she would have little to do except ensure that his circlet was level and his cuffs were buttoned. Half-elves could be incredibly lax in attending to the little details that made all the difference, and in truth she sometimes wondered how her husband had got along without her. She did not think that she wished to know how often he had not changed his undershirt during those seven long years in Mordor.

The trio entered the master bedroom and the twins broke away from their mother to leap gleefully on the bed, bouncing a couple of times for good measure.

"Look, Ada! New tunics!" Elrohir scrambled up on his knees to point proudly at the pale blue silk.

"New tunics, Ada!" Elladan dropped down onto the pillows, spreading out his arms wide to make the widest possible dent in the soft cushions.

"Very nice, boys." Elrond shifted his concentration from the complicated braiding pattern for a moment to peek in the mirror to watch his sons' reflections bounce in the glass. Those same tunics had been slightly too big for them at the celebration at the start of the summer, but now they fitted quite acceptably.

"And Ada looks very nice too, does he not?" Celebrian queried with a hint of mischief, standing on tiptoe to kiss her husband lightly on the cheek. The half-elven were slightly more sensitive to the heat than their full- blooded cousins and Elrond wore a slightly peeved look as he contemplated donning the heavy velvet gown over his shirt and leggings.

"Very nice, Ada." Elrohir nodded seriously and smiled at his father, secretly glad that he would not have to wear such heavy clothing for several years.

"I am glad that I do not have to wear that!" Elladan wrinkled his nose and pointed towards the gown that was hanging neatly from the back of a chair. "It looks hot and itchy."

"It is, my Elladan." Elrond said regretfully as he finished his braiding. "Although it is indeed very fine."

Laughing softly, Celebrian passed through into the pale coolness of their bathing chamber leaving her husband charge of their two excited sons.

~*~

"You are beautiful," Elrond took his wife's hand in his as they walked through the southern hallway to the sitting room where they would meet with their guests. Dressed like this, in a gown of simple white silk and so obviously happy she did not need her mother's power to glow. The raw fabric of the gown gleamed iridescently in the soft lamplight and the silver and mithril charms threaded in her hair made it glitter and gleam in the flickering beams.

"The night is beautiful." Celebrian corrected softly, ducking her head a little to hide her smile and blushing cheeks. "I hope that they. . ."

". . .behave?" Elrond finished for her, looking ahead of them to their sons who were scampering eagerly from side to side, exclaiming over the decorations and leaping to try and catch the large moths that fluttered around the lamps. "I am sure that they will try."

"I hope that they do not mind too much. It will be hard for them." Celebrian bit her lip slightly as she watched her boys. They had agreed that to help ease the children into proper behaviour at formal functions that they should, at this age, sit and talk with the other guests or participate in the traditional dances rather than play with their friends.

"They shall do well." Elrond said proudly then added teasingly. "At that age my brother and I were never shown such sympathy."

"At that age, Master Elrond," a deep voice commented from behind them and Elrond turned round in surprise to find the Lord of the Havens behind him, "you were too busy pressing our poor guests for information that neither of us could get a word in edgeways."

"I. . . I. . ." Elrond opened his mouth in rightful indignation, trying not to join in with Celebrian's laughter. "I was merely a curious child. . . a bright child."

The Lord of Imladris nodded in a self-satisfied manner then grinned teasingly at the shipwright.

"As bright as a candle flame, no doubt?" Cirdan said with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrows.

"Aye," Elrond agreed eyeing Cirdan a little dubiously. With the shipwright things were seldom this simple.

"Aye?" Mock surprise tinged the ancient elf's tone.

"Aye." Elrond confirmed, wondering what the sea-elf was up to. The Teleri were a strange and curious folk.

"Aye, intellect burning as a flame. . ." Cirdan rubbed one hand pensively over his closely cropped beard, "flickering appropriately, no doubt?"

"Ay. . ." Elrond halted suddenly and speared the shipwright with a look, but was left without appropriate retort.

"Flickering?" Glorfindel asked helpfully, coming up from behind and slapping a hand on each of his friend's shoulders, drawing them all into an impromptu hug. Lowering his lips to the half-elf's ear he hissed in an exceedingly audible whisper. "The Flame Imperishable, Peredhil. The Flame Imperishable."

~*~

"I do not like dancing." Elladan complained to his brother as they sat on the edge of a bench, watching their mother and father leading a Teleri dance that they did not know.

"You dance at Midwinter." Elrohir retorted half-heartedly, much of his attention focussed on the footwork of the dancers. The music for this dance was beautiful and next time it was played he wished to join in. The sea elves were singing as they danced and although he did not know all the ancient words, Elrohir joined in quietly, mouthing the words that he did not know.

"It is fun at Midwinter." Elladan paused for a moment to watch as his mother whirled under his father's arm and caught hold of Glorfindel's hand. He could not understand how such a brave warrior as Glorfindel could enjoy prancing and skipping about the hall. "This is stupid!"

Although his Ada and Ammë were laughing and looked as if they were having fun, he much preferred the dances at Midwinter when they would all join hands and sing joyful tunes as they skipped faster and faster around the great tree. This seemed to be more about patterns and trying not to trip over each other than having fun. One poor member of the Guard had just stepped on a maiden's dress and she was looking at him as if it was his fault. She should never have worn anything that long and floppy if she did not want it to be trampled on.

"It is not!" Elrohir said brightly, getting to his feet as the music stopped, and running to his mother. "Dance with me, Ammë! Dance with me!"

"I would love to, little one." Celebrian took the child's outstretched hands and gave her husband an apologetic look. "And then I shall dance with your Ada again."

Smiling in satisfaction, Elrohir dragged his mother toward the centre of the dance floor, leaving his father to stroll over to where Elladan was sitting.

"Elrohir has already mastered the trick of stealing another's partner." Elrond grinned broadly as he watched Celebrian leading their son through the moves. "Are you having fun, Elladan?"

"No." Elladan spoke in a voice that suggested strongly that his father should have known the answer. "It is completely pointless, Ada."

"It is?" Elrond's laughed at his eldest son's disgruntled expression and wrapped an arm around the child's hunched shoulders. "It is quite fun when you are with a maiden that you like."

"I do not like girls." Elladan scowled and looked longingly at the corner where the other children were laughing and playing. A few had joined in the dancing and were all holding hands in a long line as they skipped and wove in-between the older elves. "Can I not dance with them, Ada?"

Elrond looked over at the little chain of children and turned back to his son. It was better for the boy to be dancing than sitting here by himself, and there were few here that would partner him. The current dance had just ended and Celebrian seemed to be having difficulty in preventing Elrohir from splitting up a newly betrothed couple who clearly did not yet wish to change their partners. Although he was sure that Galadriel would dance with the boys if asked, they would have more fun with others their own size. "I do not see why not. Be careful not to trip anyone."

"I will Ada!" Elladan leapt off the bench, landing lightly on his hands and knees before running over to fill in a gap in the chain between Iorw's cousin and Andün's sister.

"Be good!" Elrond called after him and hurried over to his wife to claim her as his partner - just in time, for his rather overzealous friend had been approaching with a distinctly mischievous glint in his eyes.

~*~

"But it is not fair!" Elladan complained loudly, pointing accusingly at the bench in the corner where Cirdan was sitting alone surrounded by wood shavings from the block of wood that he was whittling. "You do not make him dance! Why cannot I sit there instead?"

The other children had grown tired of dancing and Elladan had been forced to trail regretfully back to the bench to make polite conversation and watch the dancing. His brother never seemed short of a partner, smiling sweetly at whoever met his desire, knowing that few maidens had the heart to resist him. He had been quite content watching everyone and talking to one of the elves of Guard who was unable to dance due to an injured foot, but then his Ammë had come along and said that he had to join in the dancing. Apparently listening to a vivid description of the beheading of an orc was not a suitable way to spend the evening.

Celebrian looked quickly from her son's angry face to the firm figure of the shipwright. "Eru grant me peace, Elladan! If you wish to sit in the corner, by all means do so. Speak to Lord Cirdan if you wish. He at least might think higher of your manners than I do!"

Rather stung by his mother's words Elladan stumped over to where the shipwright sat then paused a few feet from the bench as he watched the shipwright earnestly. Now that he had got his wish he did not know what he should do. It seemed rude to sit down next to anyone as important as Lord Cirdan uninvited, but he could not go back to his family. His mother and father were holding each other closely as they danced, and were talking quietly to each other. About him, Elladan suspected. Now his father would come and scold him later for his rudeness and he would have to apologise to his Ammë. It was not that he did not want to be friends with his Ammë again, but he did not like anyone make him do anything, as if he was so nasty that he would not say sorry by himself if given time.

Ignoring the small stubborn silhouette before him, Cirdan turned over the section of hull that he had shaped in his hands, pursing a lip as he detected a slight irregularity in the thickness of the wood.

"Lord Cirdan!" Elladan demanded in an imperious voice, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"Master Elladan." Cirdan glanced briefly upwards to look at the child then turned back to his handiwork. "May I be of assistance?"

Aggravated by the elf's apparent disinterest, Elladan pouted grumpily. One of the laces of his formal shoes had come undone, and he could feel the smooth metal of his circlet weighing down irregularly on his left ear. His tunic was crumpled and had a few bright red raspberry stains, and he no longer felt fresh or adorable. Nobody would want to teach him to make ships, just as nobody wanted to dance with him.

"Show me how to make ships." Elladan demanded sulkily, then realising how terribly rude this sounded added, more to avoid a reprimand than to be polite. "Please, Lord Cirdan."

The shipwright did not look up from his work. "No."

Elladan paused, mouth slightly open as he watched the old sea elf. He was intolerably rude and unkind and it was not fair. "Why not? I want you to."

Cirdan set down the roughly carved wooden hull and the plane and looked seriously at the boy. He was obviously frustrated and angry, and was too cross to dance or sing, much less make his first attempts at shipbuilding.

"Because I do not wish to." Cirdan said blandly then looked hard at an empty bench that was well supplied with cushions. "Why do you not sit over there?"

"Because I do not wish to!" Elladan exclaimed loudly, drawing curious looks from some of the nearby elves. He would rather dance than sit alone in a corner with everyone wondering what he had done to deserve such treatment. "I want you to show me how to make ships!"

Cirdan ignored him and resumed smoothing down the hull of the ship, each stroke steady and calm. Frowning, Elladan shifted his weight from foot to foot, watching the shipwright's hands intently.

"I do not see why you complain about our ships if you will not show me how to make a proper one." Elladan scowled stubbornly at the shipwright's beard, one fist screwing the silk of the left side of his tunic into a crumpled ball. "There is no point."

Cirdan grunted, and picked up a small square of sandpaper to smooth off the rough corners of his craft.

"I would like to make a ship." Elladan said loudly, and glared intently at the shipwright until he was sure that the elf should burn to dust under the ferocity of his gaze. He could hear the others dancing and many sweet voices raised in song behind him, but he seemed driven by a fierce determination to have his way. He could not be sent back unwanted to his parents anyway, not now that he had made Ammë cross. "I would try hard."

"Oh, very well!" Cirdan spoke at last with an air of great frustration, and before Elladan could respond, had swept him off his feet and seated him firmly in his lap. "I shall show you."

Startled by this sudden action, Elladan remained mute for a few minutes, listening intently as Cirdan launched into a lecture on the design and construction of model ships. Then, as the sea elf leant forward, carefully showing him how to choose which section of wood from which to cut the hull, he relaxed back against the larger body.

When Celebrian next looked over to the corner to check on her son, Elladan was sitting happily in the shipwright's lap, chattering excitedly as a large callused hand guided his small one. Her worry decreasing greatly, she turned back to her husband and the minstrels, not quite missing the small smile half hidden beneath the shipwright's beard.

~*~

Finally, as the final songs of the dances were played before the merry party would filter through to the Hall of Fire for singing and reciting, Celebrian called her small sons to her and wrapped an arm around each child's shoulders. Despite Elladan's stubbornness and Elrohir's excessive enthusiasm they had been remarkably well behaved, and it seemed a shame to deny them a little while of play as a reward.

"Have you enjoyed yourselves?" Celebrian took her boys by the hand and led them into a quiet corner of the room to talk. "I was proud of you."

Elrohir beamed at this and nodded vigorously, but Elladan turned a miserable shade of pink and scuffed the toe of his shoe against his bare ankle. Sure that she could see the brightness of tiny tears in the grey eyes, Celebrian drew her eldest son closer. "I was proud of you too, my Elladan."

"I am sorry, Ammë." Elladan buried his face into the layered skirts of his mother's gown and clutched her hand extra tightly.

"All is well, little one." Celebrian brushed a dangling bit of hair from his loosened braid back behind his ear, and knelt down to kiss his cheek. "I believe that you made Lord Cirdan the happier."

Elladan looked towards the shipwright and wrinkled his nose. "He is very grumpy, Ammë."

Celebrian laughed merrily and pressed the tip of her index finger to her lips, then hugged both boys to her. "You both did very well. Why do you not run and play a little while before we join in the singing?"

The twins looked at each other for a moment, their smiles growing in their faces, then hurriedly handed their mother their circlets and shoes, and dashed over to a free corner of the floor to join their friends in running and jumping, slipping and sliding, laughing and squealing, and all the other things that elflings did best.

When they had been very small elflings, the twins had each been gifted with a small set of silver cutlery, ideal for such tiny hands. Although the boys had decided several years ago that they were large enough to struggle with the unwieldly 'grown-up' implements, there were times when they would use their old spoons and forks - most noticeably at the breakfast table, where the tiny spoons were the ideal size to scrape all the last bits of white from inside the eggshell.

~*~

"I want to come second!" Elladan smiled cheerfully at his mother, using the butter knife to slice off the top of his egg with an overenthusiastic swish.

Celebrian frowned slightly at his words, but the effect of this was missed as both twins turned their attention to their father who had just managed to catch the flying piece of eggshell mere fractions of a second before it could collide with his shirt.

"That was quick, Ada!" Elladan's eyes widened and his voice held a distinct note of awe as his father calmly placed the eggshell back on his plate. If someone could catch things like that, then surely they would be able to just pluck arrows from the air.

"Do it again, Ada!" Elrohir waved his hand across the table, trying to grab the knife from his brother's hand. "Let me have a go! Elladan!"

"Can I try with arrows?" Elladan held the knife above his head with a smug expression, enjoying the chance to aggravate his brother. "No! I had it first! Please Ada? Is that why the orcs never killed you?"

"Elladan." Celebrian shook her head firmly and removed the knife from her eldest son's hand, simultaneously using her other hand to settle Elrohir back into his seat. The younger twin had been leaning far over the table in his attempts to grab the knife and he had stained his clean tunic with smears of strawberry preserve and breadcrumbs. "If you do not eat quickly, you will be late!"

Both boys looked rather anxious at their mother's warning, and began shovelling yolk-covered bits of bread and butter into their mouths, hardly speaking in their determination not to lose a single moment where they could be chewing. The young trainees would have a special morning of fun and games culminating in the archery contest and a special picnic. Then they would be allowed to watch some of the older elflings demonstrating their skills in the afternoon. Neither twin wanted to be late.

Chuckling quietly, Elrond shared an amused look with Celebrian then turned to his boys. "No, Elladan, arrows are too fast to catch. It is easier to dodge or duck if you hear an arrow coming."

Elladan nodded slowly as he finished chewing and swallowed his mouthful, but the moment that his mouth was empty his brow furrowed a little in puzzlement.

"Oh." Elladan paused, sucking on the cool metal end of his spoon as he concentrated, trying to put his thoughts into words. "Are you good at dodging, Ada?"

"I suppose I am quite good." Elrond set his own spoon down on the side of his plate as he considered his son's query. Something in the child's tone told him that there was more to the question than one might have thought. "Why do you ask?"

"But better than everyone else?" Elladan persisted, sneaking his elbows up onto the tabletop. "Better than all those people that died?"

"Better than Glorfindel?" Elrohir added helpfully and shrugged as Elladan shot him an annoyed look. "Glorfindel died too."

"Glorfindel does not count." Elladan said firmly, glaring at his brother. "Glorfindel fought a Balrog."

Grinning at the obvious pride in Elladan's voice and making a mental note to tease his friend about it later, Elrond shook his head. "No, Elladan. I was no better than many of my friends. Many-a-time I was lucky to avoid getting badly hurt. No matter how good a soldier anyone is, they still must be sensible and make wise choices, and even then much is determined by chance."

"Oh." The twins shared a rather puzzled look then Elladan turned to his father with a frown. "But that makes no sense, Ada! It would not be fair if it were just chance. Maybe you were better than them although you did not know it."

"Yes," Elrohir supplemented eagerly, "Perhaps they were slow at running or they did not wear their armor."

"No, boys." Elrond smiled sadly and shook his head slowly. "Many of those who have died were better warriors than me. In matters of life or death, little matters save for the wishes of Iluvatar."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, each clearly disbelieving their father's words. Then Elrohir looked curiously at his father.

"How does Iluvatar choose then, Ada?" Elrohir traced a small finger around the embroidered flowers on the trim of the tablecloth. "Why did you not die?"

Elrond paused for a moment or two, then smiled around at his family and spoke simply. "I am lucky."

~*~

"Iorwë!"

"Andúnë!"

With two cheerful cries, the boys raced away over the grass towards their friends with scarcely a glance behind them. Soon they were welcomed by happy voices and excited laughter, and within a moment or two were lost amidst the crowd of milling elflings. Left behind on the path that led down to the large meadow where the events were being held, Elrond and Celebrian looked at each other and smiled.

"They grow older." Elrond commented blandly, raising one eyebrow slightly and his mouth quirking upwards into a grin as he offered his wife his hand. Both boys had done their share of dragging as they had been hurried down to the meadows, and they had had precious little time to linger under the trees or admire the morning sunlight playing on the still water of the ponds.

"One day they shall leave us behind." Celebrian bit her lip slightly as she scanned the small crowd of identically clad elflings for sight of her sons. "I hope that all shall go well today. I worry for them."

"They shall learn." Elrond grasped Celebrian's hand in his, and smoothly slipped his fingers between hers. "They have grown this summer."

"Yes." Celebrian turned her gaze from her boys to look down at her hand, then smiled up at her husband. She waited for a moment to wave at the little cluster of children regardless of the fact that her sons were nowhere to be seen, then skipped merrily down the path, leading her husband into the privacy of the cool shadows under the birch trees. "Yes, they have."

~*~

"I can see a castle."

"No, it is an eagle's head. . . carrying a pipe," someone else said dreamily, gazing up at the lazy clouds drifting across the bright blue of the sky.

"Or Mithrandir, but without his hat and a bigger nose and no hair." Elrohir suggested a little sleepily, screwing up his eyes against the brightness of the sky. The meadows were filled with the lilting notes of a traditional dancing tune, and if he looked straight across his stomach, down towards the lower reaches of the valley he could see the blurry shapes of small figures prancing and skipping and weaving in-between each other. They were wearing tunics of the same colours as the blue of the cornflowers or the pinks and purples of the wild geraniums or the light yellow of cowslips, and with the smell of the dry grass and moss and the rustling of the leaves behind him, he could almost pretend that they were flowers being blown in the wind.

"This is boring!" Elladan complained, prodding his brother in the stomach and causing the younger twin to jerk hurriedly into a sitting position. "All they do is skip and jump and then start all over again. It is stupid. Everyone will have gone to sleep by the time that we get a turn!"

It had been decided that on this occasion, the girls should have the first chance to display what they had learnt. This meant that the twins' training groups had to sit quietly on a little hillock under the shade of some trees as they waited for their turn. Although their training masters had allowed them to expand sitting into sprawling on their backs to find shapes in the clouds, or shutting their eyes and fumbling their hands around in the air as they attempted to play 'sitting-tag', or even tossing small pebbles at a larger stone some distance away, many of them were finding this rather difficult.

"It is pretty." Elrohir looked back at the dancing elflings. He could see them more clearly now that he was sitting up, and they were all smiling and laughing as they did the moves. It looked quite fun, now that he took a closer look, and they would have to be very quick to avoid bumping into one another or to all lift up their arms at the same moment. He had enjoyed the dancing the previous evening, but this looked even more fun. They did not talk to each other as they did there, and the dancing elflings were not wearing the long gowns that the elf-maidens wore, so they could move unhindered. Perhaps, if he asked, Andún's sister would teach him some of the moves. Or maybe Ammë would know. "I think it would be fun."

Elladan sighed loudly and gave him a pitying look. "They are girls."

Elrohir shrugged slightly and wrinkled his nose at his brother. "It still looks fun."

"It looks boring." Elladan objected, then turned scornfully to his brother. "Everybody would think that you were a girl if you wore a pink tunic."

"Ada wears pink." Elrohir said with a small hint of triumph. But his Ada was a lot bigger than his Ammë, and he wore shirts under his robes rather than a tunic for all to see. And everyone knew that Ada was a boy. If Andúnë braided his hair like a girl and wore a purple tunic, then he would look just like his sister - everyone said so. He did not think he would want people to think that he and Elladan were brother and sister by accident.

"He does not!" Elladan exclaimed loudly, earning himself a warning glance from the training master. Lowering his voice to an exceedingly audible hiss, he bent closer to his brother's ear. "He wears pale red, and only sometimes!"

Elrohir smiled rather smugly at his brother, knowing that this would infuriate him more than anything else he could possibly say. Then, when it looked as if his brother was just about to snap and get everybody into trouble, added soothingly, "I would not have to wear pink anyway. I could dance wearing my training tunic if I wanted to."

"You would look stupid though."

~*~

Finally, as mid-morning approached, all the elflings had a chance to shine, running back and forwards along ropes and throwing and catching small wooden balls or beanbags. Seated comfortably in the shade of a large oak tree, Elrond watched his sons with a badly disguised hint of pride. Galadriel and Celebrian had drifted off somewhere, to help set out the milk and apples for the snack before the contest perhaps, or maybe to join in with some of the mothers who were teaching their eager children some new steps or dances. Of the family from Lorien though, Celeborn had decided to stay with him, and together with Glorfindel, the three of them sat peaceably under the trees, watching the younglings play.

"They move so quickly for elves so small." Celeborn said blandly, looking around at the elflings with an interested air, so that is was impossible for either of his companions to guess who or what had sparked the comment. "One would not think that they would yet be so agile."

"No," Elrond did not lift his eyes from watching his youngest son dart through the long grass, chasing a ball, "It seems but a moment ago that they found their feet."

"It was." Glorfindel said simply, closing his eyes and leaning backwards to stretch, handily avoiding the rather jealous glance that Celeborn gave him. Although the Lord and Lady of Lorien had spent as much time as they could spare with their daughter and her family, there had been many precious moments that had been missed.

"I still remember. . ." Elrond broke off from his reminiscing to draw his breath in sharply as he watched his elder son dash across a rope at a speed best described as unwise. "Be careful, ion nîn."

The three older elves watched silently as the elfling reached the other side and leapt down to the ground without a moment's hesitation. Relaxing slightly, the three elves' faces lit up with a trio of proud smiles before they remembered themselves, and returned to suitably unconcerned expressions.

"The children manage well, do they not?" Glorfindel said casually, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, turning to look at a particularly tiny child making valiant attempts to walk on his hands lest anyone guess which elflings he was particularly proud of. "They all do."

"That they do." Celeborn smiled brightly as Elrohir took opportunity of a momentary break in play to wave at them. "Their parents must be very proud of them."

Almost secretly, Elrond smiled.

~*~

"Mithrandir?"

The Istar looked up to find one of the twins standing above him, silhouetted against the brightness of the sky. He was munching on an apple, and held two beakers in his free hand, and the pocket of his tunic was sagging under the weight of another fruit.

"Child?" Mithrandir held out his hands to take the two wobbling beakers before they were dropped. "Come and sit."

Gratefully Elladan dropped down onto the grass beside the wizard, and after a second or two's squirming leant his head against the old man's arm. "Ada said that I was to give you this."

"My thanks, Elladan." Mithrandir took the proffered apple, recognizing the boy now by the graze on his knee and his characteristic troubled expression. Moving a little so that he could slip an arm around the child's back, Mithrandir took a big bite of the apple and smiled down at the boy. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Elladan nodded, then scowled and shook his head.

Mithrandir's bushy brows rose inquisitively, but he said nothing, merely waiting.

"I need some magic!" Elladan said fiercely at last, throwing his apple core into the bushes with all his strength. "I need you to make magic for me."

"Oh?" Mithrandir sucked in a cheek thoughtfully as he finished his apple then, like Elladan, threw his core into the bushes. As it flew, the core cartwheeled in mid air and gave off a flurry of green and gold sparks. Finally Mithrandir turned to the elfling with a chuckle. "Is that enough for you, Master Elladan?"

Elladan looked at him, and gave him a rather false smile. It seemed rude not to seem pleased after someone had done him a kindness, but that was not what he had meant.

"Did that not please you?" the Istar's voice was kind and merely curious rather than annoyed, and Elladan found himself wavering over whether to tell him the whole story, "What magic would you wish to see?"

"I. . ." Elladan looked pleadingly at the old man, then lowered his voice and began talking quickly. "I need to be braver, Mithrandir. I want to not care what other people think."

"Oh?" Looking faintly surprised, Mithrandir pulled the child into a tighter embrace.

"Culr. . . some other people were saying things about me. That I was a show off and that if I did not win then everyone would laugh and know that I was no good really and just think that it was because I was stupid and then everyone would be ashamed of me and not like me any more."

Elladan took a deep shuddering breath and blinked twice before continuing. "And then I would have to stay in the bad training group for ever and ever and Glorfindel would stop helping me because I would have been a bad influence. . . a bad reflection on him and then everyone would think that he was a bad teacher because I was bad at archery and then he would not be Captain of the Guard anymore and it would be all my fault and I would have spoilt everything."

Gulping, Elladan burrowed his face against the rough grey fabric of Mithrandir's sleeve, then at a strange noise from above him looked up reproachfully. "Are you laughing?"

"No." Mithrandir admirably swallowed his amusement and looked down seriously at the boy, using two fingers to smooth the wrinkles out of the Elladan's forehead. "What did you wish me to do?"

"I needed magic, Mithrandir!" Elladan repeated with a note of frustration. "I need to be braver. Make me not care what they say!"

Mithrandir looked at him a moment, and suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Elladan added, "Please?"

The other boys were already gathering back into a group around Ildruin, the training master, and if Mithrandir was not quick then he would have to go. What was the point of being a wizard if you were too slow to use your magic anyway?

"Elladan," Mithrandir shook his head, then gently pressed his clenched fist against the child's chest, "I cannot give you that magic. It is a magic that you will find within yourself."

~*~

The children had scampered out onto the field by now, where maybe a dozen training targets had been set up ready for them. They had gathered in a small circle around the tall elf in their midst, and were listening intently as he explained the rules to them.

As he crossed the meadow towards the shady spot under the tree that Celebrian had chosen as the perfect picnic place, Celeborn watched as the training master lightly rapped each child on the head, assigning them a number that would tell them whether they would go first or second. Some boys, especially the smallest ones, were wriggling and jiggling from foot to foot, barely able to stand still long enough to be counted. Others, including his Elrohir, were standing stock still, heads held proudly high as they waited their turn, their impatience and excitement shown only in the dancing of their eyes. As he watched, both twins stepped forwards with a few of other boys, evidently having gained the same number. Feeling a slight pang of regret that the twins would have to compete against each other so soon, Celeborn forced himself to turn aside and head toward a figure clad in white sitting stiffly in the shade of one of the trees. Whatever the outcome of the twins' good intentions, it was beyond his control by now.

"Curunír." Celeborn nodded his greeting and sat down beside the old man, handing him a beaker of milk that was accepted with a rather sour thanks. He was not particularly fond of the Istar, wise though he was, but his wife held little love for him and made no attempt to hide her feelings, so in the interest of keeping the peace he often attempted to smooth things over. "How fare you?"

"It is somewhat tedious." Curunír shuffled against the tree trunk where the bark of the tree was digging into his back. He was old and weary and sitting out here in the stifling heat on the hard sun-caked ground was far from comfortable. "I am not of good temper to watch elves too small and simple to yet be of any significance. Did you not find it wearisome?"

"Nay, I was watching my grandsons." Celeborn said with a smile. It felt good to say it, and with a wide smile he repeated himself. "My daughter, Celebrian's sons, Elladan and Elrohir. I am very proud of them."

~*~

Elladan took his place on the field, feeling rather nervous by now. Although normally he enjoyed having an audience and making people talk about him, he thought that just this time it might be nicer to have the contest in private without everybody watching him. If things went wrong, he would rather not have everyone see how bad he was.

To his left and right, the other elflings were taking arrows from their quivers and fitting them to their bows as carefully as they could manage. He knew that he should do the same, but somehow he could not stop fiddling with the loose bit of hemming on the edge of his tunic. He had been picking at the scab on his knee earlier, and now it was a little bit sore and a thin trickle of blood had leaked out from around the edge. It did not matter though, for he liked having scabs. They were his badges of his adventures. Once, when he had tripped from the diving rock he had had scabs on his knees and elbows for nearly a month.

"Elladan," Ildruin's hand came to rest momentarily on his shoulder, startling him into looking up at the training master with a distinctly guilty expression. "Are you ready to start?"

"I am sorry, hîr." Elladan hurriedly wiped his palms on his shorts and reached behind him to take an arrow from his quiver. "Nearly."

"Pay attention, Elladan." Ildruin reminded him kindly, before passing on to help another boy who had managed to knock a feather from one of his arrows and was quite upset about it.

Soon though, all was ready, and the meadow seemed to fall quiet except for the distant rushing of the river and the chirruping of the birds high up in the trees. The first six or seven elflings stood poised in silence, waiting for Ildruin's call before shooting.

"Aim." Ildruin quickly glanced behind the targets for a brief second before returning his attention to the boys under his command. While all the families of Imladris enjoyed this day, and for many youngsters it was the highlight of the summer, it was more than usually nerve-racking for those in charge. Many children would attend, and with a grandson of his own barely into his second year, he well understood the fear that someone very small would manage to inadvertently wander into the line of fire. "Release!"

Moving with very nearly the smooth speed and coordination as the archers of the Imladris Guard, the children released their arrows. He ran a quick glance over the targets and motioning to the boys to tell them that they should prepare for their next attempt, noticing that while most had done rather badly on this first rather nervous shot, Elrohir had managed to hit the centre, and far away on the other side of the field, his brother had done nearly as well. Elrohir was smiling and was chattering happily to his neighbour, but Elladan looked far from content.

Anxious to see how well his brother had done, Elladan shuffled in line, stood on tiptoes and craned his neck to try and catch a glimpse of Elrohir. If only they could share a smile or a wave he thought that he might feel a bit better.

"That was not very good," someone hissed vehemently from behind him, and Elladan spun round to find Culromen glaring at him, "Your brother shot it right in the centre."

Elladan frowned, and clenched his arrow in his fist with unnecessary firmness. While he did not think that Culromen would be able to see Elrohir from here if he could not, the older elfling was an inch or so taller.

"Is he better than you?" Culromen persisted with a rather unpleasant smile. "Is that why your Ada is watching him not you?"

"He is watching me!" Elladan protested, but when he looked back it was to find that both his mother and father had their eyes on the opposite end of the field. Feeling somewhat aggrieved at this betrayal, he kicked unhappily at the ground and declared loudly, "And I am not really trying anyway. It is Elrohir's turn to win!"

He did not have to try if he did not want to. And if he did not try his best and everyone knew it, then it would not matter if he lost. At least not as much. And nobody would ever know that Elrohir was really truly better than him.

"I shall not be trying hard today." Elladan repeated at last, as loudly and as arrogantly as he could manage. As long as Culromen did not guess, at least one thing would be better.

"Pay attention please, Elladan." Ildruin reminded him slightly less kindly, hurrying on to remind Iorwë to tie his shoelaces.

~*~

Lounging on the grass, watching the tips of the tall birch trees sway languidly in the wind and beneath them the dozen or so competing elflings, Glorfindel let time pass. It was warm down in the valley, and the grass was soft and dry. Lying on his front and resting his chin on his folded hands he could watch the twins at his leisure, smiling slightly at the depth of concentration on their faces.

Elrohir he saw now, while rather better than could be expected for a child of his age, was not the archer that Elladan had described to him. Indeed he knew that even when not trying quite as hard as he could manage, the elder twin should manage to win this contest with ease. Unfortunately though, Elladan seemed to be doing his best to be just as bad a competitor as he had described himself to be.

Although he could not fault the child's aim or technique, which were, as usual, as near perfect as the child could make them, the boy seemed to be aiming away from the centre. His arrows hit the second or third ring of the target with perfect regularity, and after a little while, Glorfindel began to notice a pattern in the child's aim. Grimacing a little in frustration, Glorfindel touched his forehead to his hands, inhaling in the wild smell of the grass and the sweet scent of the wildflowers. Of all the things that the child could have done to annoy him, nothing frustrated him more than anyone who did not strive to complete everything to the best of their ability.

"Elladan is doing well." Elrond strolled over to his friend's side and dropped down into the grass beside him, nudging his elbow into Glorfindel's side until the Balrog-slayer rolled over and sat up. "He had matured this summer."

"He has?" Glorfindel pursed his lip disapprovingly at the elfling who had just run over to the target to retrieve his arrows and allow another boy to take a turn.

"Aye." Elrond nodded and leant against the blond elf's shoulder as he watched his boys file neatly over to the side of the field where they sat down in a straight line, no longer having any difficulty in obeying instructions now that it was their turn to take part. To his immense satisfaction, Elrohir had managed to come top in this round, and to his relief even Elladan had managed to get through to the next round. "Last year we would have had tantrums by this time. He is trying hard now, and I have never been more proud of him."

Glorfindel wrinkled his nose, and could not help but pull a face. "If he were trying, aye."

Elrond gave his friend a curious look at the disgruntled words. He had suspected that Glorfindel would become frustrated with the child if he did not live up to his exacting standards, but Elladan seemed to be trying hard enough for him. In any case the Elladan that he loved could often be frustrating and beyond understanding. "He is not?"

"No, Peredhil, he is not! I have not spent hours with him this summer to teach him to shoot with all the skill and precision of a particularly thick skulled dwarf. . ." grumbling a little, Glorfindel fell silent for a few moments, then added in a voice that held more annoyance than Elrond had ever heard from him before, "He is not even trying to aim. I would sooner be proud of. . . that thing!"

"Herith." Chuckling at the sheer exasperation in his friend's voice, Elrond pushed himself up to his feet and wandered over to the elfling that Glorfindel had indicated. Herith was a perpetually sleepy looking child, and was well known among the healers for his habit of sucking on pebbles. There had been unfortunate incidents when the pebbles had mistakenly been swallowed or stuck up his nose, and from the bulging shape of the child's cheek he had not learnt from these episodes.

His frustration fading as he watched his friend kneel down beside the little boy and speak gently to him, Glorfindel could barely resist sniggering as Elrond held out his palm and Herith obediently spat out the pebbles. Ignoring the look that Elrond gave him, which would have surely slain the Balrog even if he had not, Glorfindel lolled back on the grass, smiling to himself as he watched his lord returning the child to its owners. It had always been beyond Elrond to avoid helping anyone in need.

~*~

When the training master called, Elladan trooped back onto the archery range with the other five elflings, rather noticeably wearing a grim scowl. He had not intended to get through this far. Nobody had ever told him that he would do well. He had only tried hard enough to avoid being so obvious in his lack of effort that he would be scolded, but now everyone would think that he had tried, and then they would think that he was bad when he lost, not merely lazy.

Feeling rather confused now, Elladan turned back to look at his family and friends that were gathered around under the trees watching them. Mithrandir had told him that he would find what he needed to be brave inside him, but he just felt rather hollow and empty. It was not brave to pretend that you were no good to avoid failing. He had always been scornful of the elflings that were afraid to try the big swing in case they fell in the water. And this was just the same.

But then, Mithrandir was not looking at him at all. He was talking to Lord Cirdan and ignoring everyone else, and he had not told him where inside he should look. It was difficult to find things quickly if you did not know where they were. Celeborn and his Ada would never know that he had not been trying hard, for they thought that he was no good at archery, and Ammë and Galadriel would not know anything about weapons anyway. At least he hoped that they did not. Ammë had been rather good at fencing for a girl, and when Galadriel had told him a story about her brothers she had seemed to know quite a lot about bows. More than he did, really. Although he had not said so.

In fact, the only person that would know was Glorfindel. But perhaps it was Glorfindel's fault anyway, because he had never told him that he was good at archery. If he had known then he could have tried even less hard, and he would not have this problem now. Biting his upper lip with a distinctly guilty expression, Elladan peeped across the training field to where he knew the blond elf would be sitting. Glorfindel was looking at him too, and for a few brief seconds their eyes met before the elfling looked down at the ground again. He had thought that Glorfindel would be angry or frustrated, but he had just looked disappointed. Disappointed and ashamed of him.

His eyes filling with tears, Elladan scuffed the grass under his feet with his battered moccasins. Now that he thought about it, there was one other person that would know, and that was him.

"Elladan," Ildruin's voice was quiet and understanding, and before he fully knew what was happening, Elladan found the training master kneeling down before him, gently turning him to shield him from the onlookers. "What bothers you, little one?"

"I. . ." Elladan sniffed, concentrating on the way that the training master's long silver braids were shaded in the sunlight. If Ildruin was nice to him right now then he was sure that he would begin to cry. "I. . . I do not know what to do."

It sounded stupid now that he had said it, but instead of getting angry with him, the training master merely patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"Try your best." Ildruin smiled encouragingly at the boy and got to his feet, making a mental note to have a longer talk with the child at a more suitable time. "Just try your hardest, Elladan. It is all that we can ask of you."

And since there seemed little else to do, Elladan did.

~*~

"That is better," Glorfindel said with satisfaction and a rather smug smile as Elladan's fifth arrow joined the others in the centre of the target. While he was far too well mannered to resort to declaring that he had told Elrond so, he could not resist turning to the Lord of Imladris with a rather pompous smile. "I said that he was not trying his hardest."

Elrond turned his gaze from his sons for a moment to look at the blond elf, then returned to looking anxiously at his sons. "You have taught him well, my friend. But I fear that this will not end well."

Now that there were only a few elflings left in the game, those that were still competing were sneaking looks at each other's targets, wondering whether it would be they that would be allowed to take the bow home with them. Although Ildruin had rather providently stationed the twins as far apart as was possible, Elrond had seen Elrohir glance towards his brother's target and the crestfallen expression that had crossed his face. This would be difficult for him.

Before long the round ended, and amidst the cheering and the excited chattering of those elflings that had been sent back to join their friends, all heard a penetrating and high-pitched young voice speaking clearly and with shocking hate, "You are a liar, Elladan."

Groaning, Elrond shut his eyes a moment and shuffled back across the grass to sit next to his wife. Somehow it always had to be his sons who caused the scenes and upsets. None had ever commented on it, preferring to politely overlook the difference, but once or twice there had been careless mentions of the children's bloodlines. While he did his best to ignore such whispers, he knew that at times it upset his wife. They sat in silence, hand in hand as they watched all elflings slowly leave the field except for their twin sons.

"They shall be in the final." Celebrian said with a note wavering between rightful pride and despair. "Please let them behave."

Elrond gave her a worried look, and stretched out his arm across her back, cuddling her closer to him.

"It does not come from you, Elrond Peredhil." Galadriel's voice sounded in his left ear, causing him to jump inelegantly in surprise. "Nor from whatever blood you may carry."

Elrond gave her a questioning look, then sighed deeply. He opened his mouth to reply, when Galadriel broke in again.

"There was one summer when Celebrian wished to lead the dances under the Mallorn trees. . ."

"Ammë!" Celebrian protested hastily, colour rising to her cheeks. "I am sure that Elrond does not wish to know that story. It happened long ago."

". . .the dances under the Mallorn trees," Galadriel continued smoothly, smiling at her daughter, "And she would practice each day in the gardens before supper, but then on the day, one of her little friends. . ."

"Tathwen." Celebrian said darkly. "And she was not my friend."

"Yes, Tathwen, she took Celebrian's place in the chain and then when it came to the turn of throwing petals it was she that was allowed to carry the basket with the pink flowers."

"And you threw the white petals?" Elrond turned to his wife with an expression of amused interest. He had heard few tales of her childhood, especially those that painted her as more than a mere doll, and since many of his friends and relations had chosen to avail her with all she could wish to know of the humiliating times of his youth, he was more than a little curious.

"I. . ." Celebrian bit her lip and although she smiled a little, she flushed deeply and began admiring her fingernails. "Not exactly."

"She threw a tantrum," Galadriel said with a smile, a certain note to her voice suggesting that she was actually rather proud of her daughter's actions, "I have never known a child to screech so loudly, and then she threw herself on Tathwen and. . ."

"Ammë!" Celebrian gave her mother a pained look. "I was but weeks past my fourth begetting day!"

"Yes, you were but small." Galadriel paused and smiled softly at her daughter. "You fell asleep on your Adar during that feast, and he carried you up to bed."

"Oh." Elrond said, hoping that he had managed to conceal his alarm at his wife's actions under his apparent calm. "And from whom did that come?"

"The temper?" Galadriel said thoughtfully, looking off into the distance with a slight smile. "I would not know."

~*~

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other uneasily as they stood side by side before the targets. It seemed very silent in the middle of the big field, and both boys suddenly felt rather lonely.

"I hope you win, 'Ro." Elladan said earnestly, looking pleadingly at his brother, who had remained rather distant and aloof throughout the change in positions. "I want you to win."

Elrohir scowled at him, looked over his shoulder to check that Ildruin was not within earshot, and leant over to whisper maliciously in his brother's ear. "I hope that you lose."

"Are you both ready?" Ildruin strode between the two children gently adjusting them into the correct position and causing a hurried end to their conversation. "We are very proud of both of you."

He had emphasized the both as much as he could, but it did not seem enough to pacify the twins who seemed to be in the middle of some argument. "I am sure that you will not let us down."

The twins looked at each other then spoke together, "Yes, Master Ildruin."

"Good." Ildruin said a little sternly, then stepped back a short distance. "Ready. Release!"

The first arrow was always the hardest to aim, and to Elladan's relief it landed firmly in the centre marking. Perhaps a little closer to the left than was perfect, but close enough for a start. Smiling a little now that he had settled into the swing of things, he fitted his second arrow to his bow and patiently waited for the call.

This second shot was better than the first one, and it was much closer to the centre point than the previous one. Feeling rather excited now at the prospect of maybe even winning himself, Elladan was eagerly reaching for another arrow when he caught sight of his brother. Elrohir looked so sad and miserable, and his shots were not as good as Elladan had expected them to be. In fact they had barely even reached the edge of the target.

Feeling confused, Elladan gave Elrohir a little smile. Perhaps he would be able to beat Elrohir after all. But then Elrohir had been so excited about winning, and a little voice inside of him was whispering that it would be mean to beat him now. But maybe they could draw. Drawing would be fair. And they could share the bow, and everyone would be happy. At least he hoped they would. All he had to do was make it easier for his brother to catch up with him. That would cheer him up.

Elladan's third shot landed with perfect accuracy in the fourth ring from the centre. Ignoring Ildruin's questioning glance, Elladan beamed proudly at his brother, only to find that a tear was running down Elrohir's cheek. Despite his attempt to allow his brother to gain points, Elrohir had managed to miss the target altogether this time, rather unsurprisingly since the younger twin's eyes were misted with tears and he was shaking slightly. Meaning to move across to comfort his twin, Elladan was just about to set down his bow and run over to his brother's side when Ildruin called for their next turn.

Maybe if he just managed to shoot this right on the very edge so that Elrohir could catch up. He was sure that Glorfindel would understand. Or at least not be too angry. And maybe if he explained everything to Ildruin after the contest, he would stop looking so annoyed. And then everything would be all right. But Elrohir was crying too hard to aim now, and his arrow did not even reach the target.

Sighing, Ildruin stopped the contest and knelt down between the boys, placing an arm around each of their shoulders. Elrohir face was awash with silent tears, and Elladan had gone red and was looking increasingly sulky and stubborn - a sure sign, Ildruin knew, that he was deeply unhappy.

"It is but one more shot. Just one more." Feeling as if it was beyond him to deal with this without the boys' parents being present, the training master decided that it would be best to draw the contest to a close without delay. "Can you do that? Elrohir?"

Elrohir gulped and nodded miserably, looking as if his entire world had collapsed around him.

"Good." Ildruin handed him a piece of cloth with which to mop his face, and turned to the elder twin. "Elladan?"

Elladan nodded unhappily, treating him to a ferocious scowl. There was nothing that he could do now to make Elrohir win, and he did not want everyone to think that they were stupid. He would do one last shot that would make everyone proud, but he would never ever like archery again.

"Good." Ildruin led the children back to their places and got to his feet. He hoped for the sake of the onlookers at least, that there would be no more tears or tantrums. "Ready. . ."

Both boys shot at once, one blinded by tears and other looking close to shouting or screaming with frustration and misery. The moment that the shot was done and his arrow had dug into a patch of dry earth some distance away, Elrohir flung his bow roughly on the ground and raced away over the worn grass to the safety and comfort of his parents. His Ammë had got to her feet and was running towards him now, and in just a moment he would be in her arms and things would be better. Sobbing loudly, Elrohir buried himself into his mother's body and let himself be carried back to his family and be cuddled back to some small degree of calm.

Alone on the field, Elladan gripped his bow tightly and looked up unhappily at Ildruin, unsure of what to do. Everyone in his family was grouped around Elrohir, and nobody would want to be kind to the person that had made him so upset. Taking pity on the elfling, Ildruin held out a hand for the child to hold onto. It had been an excellent last shot, but he did not feel that the child would want to hear that right now. A short break before the awarding of the bows seemed in order, and while the boy's parents seemed fully occupied he could see Glorfindel strolling towards him, ready to receive the child.

"Come now," Ildruin helped Elladan gather up the arrows into both the quivers and then handed him over to Glorfindel with a half-anxious and half- apologetic grimace. "He is a little upset."

.

Elrond sat back on the rug, looking at the old and worn objects scattered around him with a somewhat bemused fashion. They were past their best now, just scraps of wood, fabric, leaves and parchment. The colours were faded and edges crumpled and frayed, wood scuffed and scratched, and paint chipped. By themselves they were worthless, items of sentimental value alone, but the memories were priceless. For a few short hours he had imagined that he was back in that long hot summer. There had been tears shed and lessons learnt, but they had been together and had been so very happy.

He could not take the contents of the whole chest with him, for there was little space for anything but essentials, and he would not be returning. Some he did not doubt that his sons would wish to keep with them, but others. . . like the memories, they would fade with those that treasured them.

Finally Elrond picked up the bow, running his hands carefully over the smooth surface and tracing the delicate markings and scripture. It was small and light, around half size. Perfect for a child of around nine years. The wood was faded by long years of use but it had obviously been well cared for in its time.

He slowly wrapped the bow in a cloth of deepest blue, and carefully placed it in the bottom of his pack. It was but a bow, but it would carry the memories of an entire childhood, and he could not let it go.

~*~

Elladan approached the rug on the grass rather apprehensively, suddenly feeling as if he was no longer wanted. Elrohir was hunched up with his back to him, leaning against his father. The food and drink had not yet been touched, and Elladan felt as if every eye was turned accusingly on him.

"I. . ." The sun began to feel very hot and itchy on his head and shoulders, and with every step the new bow he was carrying would bounce lightly off the back of his calf, as if it were trying to make its presence felt. "I. . ."

"Come and sit down, Elladan." Celebrian called gaily, getting to her feet and holding out her arms to her son. "We are just about to start."

Still wearing a rather worried look, Elladan ran gratefully to her and returned the hug wholeheartedly, unwilling to leave the comfort of his mother's arms. He did not want to look at Elrohir, but he could feel the angry grey eyes boring into his back.

"We are so proud of you." Biting her lip slightly she stroked the back of her son's head, seeking to ease his distress. "Glorfindel was just saying how impressed he was by both of you, learning archery so well."

Elladan raised his face momentarily from his mother's arm to glare at the blond elf. "He is lying. I was bad."

Rather stunned by the bitterness in the voice of her eldest, Celebrian looked around at the others for support. "Nonsense. You both tried hard, I am sure."

"Aye," Glorfindel reached across the sandwiches to tap lightly on the boy's knee, "I was ashamed of you in the first rounds, and disappointed in the last, but that apart I have never seen you shoot so well."

Celebrian felt the child's mouth twitch into a smile at that, and she smiled encouragingly at her father. "Yes. Did you not think so, Adar?"

Caught between his daughter's sweet smile and his younger grandson's venomous glare, Celeborn shifted uncomfortably and made a noncommittal grunting sound. "I was proud of both my grandsons."

Pleased to have a statement that they could agree with without risk of causing offence, Galadriel and Mithrandir nodded and smiled.

"And you, Lord Cirdan?" Celebrian smiled brightly at the shipwright, the slight steeliness in her gaze leaving him with no delusions over whether answering was optional or not.

"Aye." Cirdan spoke blandly, hoping to avoid chance of conflict then, on seeing Celebrian's frown, elaborated. "You shoot well for one so small."

Unsure about whether this was a compliment or an insult, Elladan raised his head again and attempted to spear the shipwright with a glance. Unmoved by this, Cirdan took a bite of his sandwich, turning his attention to the rather different taste of freshwater fish. He had never understood why little elves seemed to object so strongly to comments about their diminutive size. Since they quickly became distressed if refused a cuddle when scared, and expected to be picked up and carried when they were tired or could not see, he felt their small size was well suited to their temperaments.

Celebrian coughed slightly and looked hard at Elrohir, who was glaring at the shipwright.

"Aye, Elrohir too." Cirdan added with a strong hint of frustration, holding up a hand to excuse his talking with his mouth full. All could see that both of Elrond's sons had unusual talent with the bow, and he did not feel that it was necessary to make a point of it. He had known other elflings in the past, and they had never shown such poor behaviour although he had seldom, if ever, praised them.

Elrohir gave him a look of intense hostility, and turned back to look at the unfastened buttons on the neck of his father's shirt. The pale fabric had become crumpled and the furrows created interesting blue and grey furrows amidst the brightness of the patchy sunlight.

"Well. . ." Celebrian looked around at the tense look on the faces of their guests, and wondering for a moment why their little party was not one of the merry gatherings dotted elsewhere on the grass. None of the other mothers understood what it was to have to share their time and attention between two elflings so small, and she had always felt that they looked down on her slightly for her inability to keep them as contented as their own children. They had never had to decide between causing one to cry because they wanted a drink and rest, and making the other fret by taking them away from the game before they were ready. "Shall we start?"

"Ham?" Elrond kept one hand on Elrohir's shoulder and offered around a plate of delicious freshly roasted meat. The guests had already started their meal, grateful to have something to distract them from the awkward family situation.

Smiling at her father as he helped himself liberally to his favourite snack, Celebrian pushed a small earthenware pot of mustard towards him, then gently removed the small quiver of arrows and bow from her son's back. "Are you hungry, my little bee?"

Elladan shook his head, but dropped down to sit cross-legged on the ground, leaning his head against the softness of his mother's tunic. It was all his fault. He had spoilt the day for everyone, and although neither his mother nor father had said anything as yet, he was sure that they were thinking it. All the books and tales had proper brothers being kind to each other and doing brave and valiant things together, not making each other upset by lying and spoiling things. If only someone else had won, then at least he would not have to carry this bow as a symbol of what an unkind and awful brother he was.

"Would you not like a beef and pickled tomato sandwich?" Celebrian offered her son a plate of warm bread rolls filled with delicious ingredients.

Elladan's resolve wavered, and he looked up questioningly at his mother. Beef and pickled tomato was a favourite of his, especially when someone had added lettuce and cheese too. He was sure that his Ammë had made them especially for him to cheer him up when he lost, and they looked so good.

"Thank you, Ammë." Elladan took a single roll and bit deeply into the crusty roll. It would have been rude to refuse anyway, and he was so hungry. "They are nice."

"May I have some?" Elrond nodded towards the platter. Elladan was not the only one fond of this particular filling, and he knew from experience that if he left the snacks near his son that they would soon disappear, however weak his appetite may seem to be.

Elladan nodded a little sadly and held the plate out for his father, his hand wobbling slightly as he tried to hold the weight with only one hand as the fully-grown elves did.

"Thank you." Elrond moved quickly to support the heavy dish just in time to prevent the sandwiches slipping into the jugs of juice and herbal tea. The twins were distressed enough about the events of the day without there being a whole new cause for an upset. "These look delicious."

Celebrian smiled at her husband, and Elrond reached across the rug to ruffle his eldest son's hair. "Good boy. I am proud of you."

Elladan smiled a little shyly at him and wriggled into a more upright position. "I aimed. . ."

Frowning deeply, Elrohir clambered onto his knees and cut bitterly across his brother's cheerful comment. "You are a liar! I hate you!"

"Elrohir!" Celebrian spoke in a shocked voice and glared at her younger son, hoping to warn him to behave. While she knew that her boys would confront each other at some point in the future, she just hoped that it would not be a public argument in front of half the elves in Imladris.

"But I did not mean to win, 'Ro." Elladan said in a very small voice, his expression hurt and woeful. "I did not know."

"You lied!" Elrohir shouted, putting down his beaker of juice and clenching his fists determinedly. "You told me that I would win! You are not supposed to be good at archery!"

"Elrohir, hush little one." Elrond caught hold of the child's arm and drew him close to his body. "It matters not."

"I did not lie!" Elladan swallowed back some tears and got shakily to his feet. "Everyone said that you were good at archery, only then you were. . ."

Elladan trailed off lamely, wary of unwittingly insulting his brother, but Elrohir was not pacified by the silence. Squirming violently in an attempt to free himself from his father's restraint, he looked at his brother with great hatred and spoke with rather frightening calm.

"I shall never, ever like you again. I shall hate you always."

"Elrohir, you must not speak so!" Celebrian's eyes widened in surprise, and she tightened her hand comfortingly around Elladan's arm. "Apologise to Elladan."

"No!" Elrohir jerked away from his father and scrambled to his feet, placing his hands on his hips and squaring his shoulders as he faced his brother. "It is not fair! Archery is my special thing, not Elladan's!"

"But Elrohir. . ." Elladan too rose to his feet, and reached down to grip the bow and arrows.

"I do not like you!" Elrohir's voice was a high-pitched screech, and he clenched his fists tightly as he watched his brother. "I practised so hard! You are no good at archery, you are too hasty, Ada said so!"

Elladan gave his father a quick betrayed look, and his eyes began to fill with tears. It was not fair for his Ada to take sides. He had practised hard all summer too, and it was not as if he had not had to try hard to win.

"I tried hard, too." Elladan said defensively, looking to Glorfindel for support. The bow suddenly seemed heavier in his hands, something rather dark and shameful. He had thought that he wanted it, but now he would have given anything for it to be Elrohir's. Clenching his fists to give him more strength, he walked stiffly over to his brother. "Here, have the bow, it is yours!"

Elrohir stepped back with a rather strange look as the bow was thrust against the flat of his chest. "It is yours."

"No, it is yours!" Elladan said eagerly, trying to hand his brother the small leather quiver. "I do not want it."

"Well, I do not want it either!" Elrohir's eyes narrowed angrily and he flung the bow to the ground. "I did not want to win for the prize. I only wanted to win. . . only because then I would. . . I wanted to be special."

As he spoke, Elrohir's breaths became increasingly gasping and his voice began to break. The first lonely tear trickled unasked for down his cheek, and despite his brave swallowing he could not control the impending tears. "It is not fair! I only wanted to win for one day. You always win and you never take turns!"

"I. . ." Elladan reached down to pick the bow from the ground and rubbed the polished wood against his thigh for longer than was strictly necessary to remove the dirt. "I do not always win. . ."

"You. . . do. . ." Elrohir sobbed loudly, his chest heaving with each shuddering breath. "It is always you that people like best, never me!"

"Elrohir." Shaking his head slightly, Elrond pushed himself up onto his feet and began walking towards his twin sons, who were standing a few feet away from each other, as a mirror but for their expressions.

"'Ro. . ." Elladan's brow furrowed with concern and he gently patted his brother's arm. "I like you best."

Elrohir looked at him for a moment, his view marred by the tears that were flooding down his face. "I do not."

The younger twin turned on his heel and darted across the grass, narrowly avoiding his father's grasp. Sparing a moment to give Celebrian a quick look and Elladan a hug, Elrond put down his sandwich and chased after him.

~*~

As the eldest and youngest of the family of Imladris disappeared into the trees, those sitting around the picnic cloth gave each other awkward looks and seemed to have to turn their full attention to their stomachs. The grey and blue eyes were focussed only on the sandwiches, biscuits

"I did not mean to win, Ammë." Elladan gulped loudly and rubbed the back of his wrist across his eyes. "I did not mean to."

"Shh, little one." Celebrian suddenly turned her attention from the ease of her guests to find her eldest was closer to tears than she had seen him for years. The grey eyes were brimful of tears, and his chin was quivering ominously. "I know."

The Lady of Imladris ducked her head to kiss her son's forehead and allowed him to crawl into her lap for comfort. "I love you, my Elladan."

As Elladan snuggled deeply into his mother's arms, Mithrandir caught Cirdan's eyes with a look that shared slight amusement as well as a great fondness for the young elves.

"Well," Mithrandir nodded slowly a few times with a slight frown then raised one bushy white brow questioningly, "shall we continue?"

"Oh yes, please do." Celebrian stopped rubbing Elladan's back for a moment to wave a hand over the spread before them. "Do not let it go to waste. They will soon return."

She hoped they would at least. It took much more to cause their younger son to lose his temper than his brother, but his moods and tempers tended to linger for hours or days. In truth she suspected that she would be lucky to regain the attention of her husband before dinnertime. This had been a bitter blow for Elrohir and it would take him some time to recover from it.

"Who is for tea?" Curunir paused with the jug of iced herbal tea in his hand, and looked around at the assembled elves and men. "That is, if nobody else wishes to pour?"

The last comment was directed at Galadriel, but the Lady of Lorien did not respond beyond a slight upward curve of her elegant brows.

"Aye, we should like some." Celeborn spoke for both himself and his wife and held out both glasses toward the wizard. He did not wish the bitter conflict between the pair to resume. Curunir suspected that Galadriel wished the council to be led by one of like thought, and at times he too had shared that opinion. His wife had always been thirsty for power, even when the decision mattered little. "That is enough."

With a slight nod, Curunir tilted the jug back to the upright and Celeborn withdrew the glasses with a comment of thanks, and handed one to his wife who seemed intent on trying to pierce the Istar's eyes with her own.

Ignoring the offers of a cold drink, Celebrian continued to comfort her son, turning her body away from the small group, toward the broad trunk of the tree to allow them some small degree of privacy. Rather to her amazement, Curunir and some of the elves sitting nearby seemed to think that this arrangement had damaged her excellent hearing, and she could hear several families making comments that ranged from sympathetic to disapproving. Frowning slightly, she ignored them and returned her full attention to her son. Only one person was important at this moment.

"We are fortunate not to have such problems." Curunir said rather smugly, sipping at a fragrant herbal tea with an air of great placidity as he looked at Celebrian's straight back. "Infants!"

"Aye, but you should borrow one, at least once." Cirdan said slowly, the apparent lightness of his tone betrayed by his deep frown. "They have their own charms."

~*~

It was late in the night before the twins next faced each other. As Elrond had expected, Elrohir had come along to sleep with them, leaving his brother alone in their simple bedroom. Elladan had been strangely silent that evening, unable to put his thoughts and wishes into words, and in truth, Elrond regretted how little time they had spent together. When upset, Elladan became quiet and stubborn, pushing away the comfort that he so badly needed; and Elrohir, with his tears and tantrums, tended to monopolise the attention. Elrond had lain awake for a long time already this night, watching his son as he sobbed out his sorrows, and later as he lay relaxed in slumber. It was a dark night, the new moon a slender crescent that gave little light, but he could see the solemn tearstained face and the dark lashes twitching slightly in dreams.

"Ada."

Elrond turned over onto his side, abandoning his sleepless vigil over his youngest to face his eldest. "Elladan."

Elladan did not manage to speak, but made a strange gulping sound and held his arms out to his father.

"Here." Elrond wriggled into a sitting position and drew back the covers, then reached down to scoop up the child into his arms, bringing him up close against his chest. "I have you."

His son felt warm and soft as he slumped against him, locking his arms around his neck and clinging to his chest. Feeling no need to struggle to put his feelings and love into words, Elrond held his son tightly, whispering soothing nonsense into his ear and rubbing his back until the small body relaxed.

Elladan burrowed down into the sheets, safe and warm between father and brother. His mother was but an arm's reach away, and from the dim light of the moon, he could see that Elrohir was in a deep, calm slumber. Frowning slightly, he wriggled round onto his stomach and sprawled on the bed, burying his face into the warmth of his father's bare arm.

Trusting that all would be well, Elrond allowed his mind to empty and his eyelids to flutter to a close. They were a family, and a family they would stay, held together in the good times and the bad. He drifted off to sleep at last, his last thoughts being of warm sheets and soft blankets, and the first of the hot tears trickling damply into the crook of his elbow.

~*~

Years had passed since then, and he had watched them grow. He had seen them grow into leggy young elves, and his chest had swelled with pride as he had watched them come of age and assume their responsibilities as his sons. They had grown taller and broader of shoulder, and he had seen them ride out with the Guard to fight evil of which he wished that they did not have to learn. His sons had come quickly into wisdom, and he could remember his pride at being flanked by the pair as they had walked together into councils and debates.

There had been other rights of passage too, ones that were less pleasant to remember. He had seen too much bloodshed in his time here, but the sight of that of his sons' had been the hardest to bear. He had watched helplessly as their eyes had darkened and their faces had begun to show the years of grief and despair. He had not been able to shelter them from all that he would have wished.

They were fully-grown by now, belonging to nobody but themselves, but they would always be his sons.

His boys.

THE END