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.