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.