Chapter 10: Twin Blessings

After a somewhat tumultuous beginning, the summit turned out to be very productive. The elven lords discussed defense and trade and the exchange of knowledge such as medical skills and design and production of weaponry. Most importantly, though not as easily measured, they also came to know one another on a different level—as fellow rulers, not fellow warriors or friends. Or enemies.

Now that the council had drawn to its end, Thranduil found he had no desire to leave Lorien. His attention was very focused on a certain lovely attraction in this fair realm. One that he was meeting this afternoon for a picnic. When Lindomiel had suggested this activity, he happily agreed. The opportunity to get into the forest was very welcome and the prospect of doing so with her was even more pleasing. So, he waited for her on a bench in the courtyard where they had agreed to meet and let his mind wander as he did.

Thranduil was staring idly at some birds enjoying the berries on a nearby bush when the tranquility of the scene was shattered by two elflings. They came crashing through the bush, running and giggling as they went. They had a sack with them and expressions of pure mischief on their faces. When they spotted Thranduil looking at them with some alarm due to their dramatic entrance, they froze.

“Oh these two are up to something,’ the elvenking thought to himself, now eyeing them suspiciously.

“Hello,” the nearest child greeted. He was immediately echoed by the second.

Thranduil blinked at them. They were twins he suddenly realized. That was fairly rare amongst elves, so Thranduil concluded they were likely Elrond’s sons. He knew, of course, the elf lord had recently had two sons and these elflings would be about the right age. They looked to be around fifteen and Elrond’s sons would be fourteen or fifteen he thought he remembered. Now what were their names?

“I’m Elrohir,” the nearest child said.

“I’m Elladan,” the second added.

They were looking at Thranduil nervously now and he realized that he had not spoken yet. He tried to smile at them, though he was still suspicious of their comportment. “Mae govannen Elrondionnath.”

The children’s eyes widened at that, but they came trotting over to him willingly enough with the innocence of youth, trusting he must be friendly if he knew their father. So trusting that they climbed up onto the bench, one sitting next to him and taking his hand, the other climbing right into his lap. Thranduil smiled despite himself at that behavior. Elrond’s sons were clearly spoiled, no doubt doted upon by every adult in their realm given this behavior. Thranduil found himself strangely pleased by that. He knew that Elrond’s childhood had been no paradise. ‘Maglor! Valar, no wonder Elrond turned out the way he did,’ Thranduil thought.

“What is your name?” one of the twins asked. Thranduil found since the twins had moved, he could not tell them apart.

“Where are you from?” the other asked.

Thranduil’s smiled broadened. They were very adorable, looking up at him with wide, dark eyes. “My name is Thranduil. I’m from…”

“Eryn Galen,” they interrupted in unison. “You are the king of Eryn Galen,” the one in his lap said proudly. He had just correctly remembered a lesson, that was obvious. Thranduil laughed lightly at the idea that he was the subject of children’s lessons, wondering idly what else they had been taught about the King of Eryn Galen in their lessons.

“That is right,” Thranduil confirmed. “And you are the lords of Imladris. Terribly young lords to be here all alone. Does your adar know where you are?”

The children giggled at being referred to as ‘lords of Imladris.’

“No,” one said.

“Ada thinks we are in our room,” the other finished.

Thranduil’s eyes widened in amusement at how easily they admitted they were breaking their father’s rules. “Are you not afraid your adar will be concerned when he finds you missing? Do you have guards or a nanny? Where are they?”

That produced a wicked smile. “Yes. Both. We lost them,” one replied.

Thranduil laughed. “And what are you up to that required you to evade your nanny and your guards?”

“Nothing,” they chorused. The one on the bench nudged the one in Thranduil’s lap and then looked at Thranduil.

“Is it true that there are big spiders in Eryn Galen? Bigger than a dog?”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows. “Near Amon Lanc, yes there are. And some are bigger than a horse.”

“Really?” came two astounded replies. “Do they like to be pets like dogs and horses?”

Thranduil snorted. “No, they do not. They are very dangerous, we have found.”

“Do you like spiders, Thranduil?”

Thranduil found he could not stop laughing at these children. “No, I cannot say that I do.”

“Are you afraid of them?”

“The ones near Amon Lanc, yes I am. Anyone should be. But ones like you will find here—no, I am not afraid of them, but I do not like them. Why? Did you children see a spider that frightened you?”

They shook their heads. “No, we like spiders."

Thranduil was suddenly very suspicious of that line of questioning, but had no time to think about it because Lindomiel was now approaching him with a basket. She had her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh at the sight of the king buried in elflings.

“Good afternoon, Thranduil,” she said as she approached. “Who are your friends?”

Thranduil smiled at her. “These are Elrohir and Elladan. Lord Elrond’s sons.”

“Which of us is which?” they immediately challenged, looking expectantly at Thranduil. Lindomiel laughed.

Thranduil did as well. “I do not have the slightest idea, pen neth. I am sorry.”

They smiled mischievously. “That is alright.”

“No one can tell us apart except ada and nana.”

“We are supposed to wear different colors.”

Thranduil and Lindomiel noted they were both wearing nearly identical light blue robes. The king raised his eyebrows. “Rather like you are supposed to be in your room with your nanny and guards right now?”

“Exactly.”

The child in Thranduil’s lap looked at Lindomiel. “I am Elladan.”

The one on the bench turned to her. “I am Elrohir.”

As soon as they said that, they got up and went to inspect the picnic basket Lindomiel had put on the grass by the bench. They opened it and looked at its contents briefly. Thranduil just shook his head. Lindomiel sat on the bench next to the king and he kissed her hand, finally greeting her properly. This was not missed by the twins. They frowned.

“Erestor said you were not married, Thranduil,” one of the twins said. Thranduil realized he had already lost track of which was which again. This one climbed into his lap. Perhaps it was Elladan again. The other climbed into Lindomiel’s lap. She smiled and put her arms around the child automatically, drawing him against her safely.

“I am not married,” the king replied in response to the elfling’s comment.

“Who is this? Erestor said you have only one brother so it cannot be your sister.”

Lindomiel laughed. “My name is Lindomiel. I’m not related to Lord Thranduil. We are only friends.”

The twins’ eyes lit up at that. “Are you courting? Ada says Thranduil needs a wife.”

Lindomiel burst out laughing at that, looking at Thranduil with wide eyes. Thranduil bit his lip, trying valiantly to control his reaction.

“Does he indeed?" he asked with a slightly choked voice. "Did Lord Elrond tell you why he thinks I need a wife?”

“Ada says a wife would improve your disposition.” It didn’t sound as if the elfing had an entirely clear idea of what ‘disposition’ meant.

“He says you would be merrier if you had a wife,” added the second twin.

Thranduil’s eyebrows climbed at that. “So Lord Elrond does not think I am merry enough?”

“He says you are serious because your adar died in the war against Sauron.”

“He says that was very traumatic for you…to lose your adar. Our ada lost his adar too.” This was said with a careful pronunciation of the word ‘traumatic’ and a very grave face.

Thranduil indeed grew a little more serious hearing that assessment. “Is that so?”

The twins just nodded.

“Well, Lord Elrond is a very great healer so he must be right. If his prescription for me is that I find a wife, I suppose I had better take that seriously.”

“We are going to be healers too,” they said in unison. “But we do not want wives.”

Before Thranduil or Lindomiel could react to that beyond snickers, Elrond appeared on the far side of the courtyard. A frustrated growl announced his arrival. He stalked over to the bench with a very severe look on his face. The twins looked at each other with wide eyes and immediately snuggled closer to their respective protectors, arms around their waists.

“You two are in a good deal of trouble this time,” Elrond said with no preamble or acknowledgement of either adult. “Where are you supposed to be?”

“Ada, this is Aran Thranduil,” the child in Thranduil’s lap introduced helpfully, ignoring his father’s question.

Elrond stared at his son a moment before his eyes drifted to Thranduil’s face. The elvenking was red-faced from struggling not to laugh. He looked at his peer with bright, dancing eyes. Elrond composed his face in more neutral lines. “Thank you, Elrohir. I have met Aran Thranduil before. Would you care to tell me what you are doing in his lap rather in being in your room?”

“We are talking.”

“About the spiders in Eryn Galen.”

Elrond shot a look at Thranduil that clearly showed he did not approve of that topic of conversation. Thranduil looked back at him blandly. That had been the topic that was the least problematic in Thranduil’s view. But Elrond’s eyes had turned to the bag on Elladan’s shoulder.

“Elladan, get off Lindomiel’s lap and open that bag,” he ordered. The bag obviously meant something to Elrond.

With innocent eyes, Elladan complied. The bag was empty.

“Where are the spiders?” Elrond demanded. The children were silent. “I know there are spiders here somewhere. Where did you put them?” The children remained silent. Elrond’s mouth formed a hard line and he pointed at the adults on the bench. “That is the King of Eryn Galen and the Princess of Lorien. They are not your servants. We do not play pranks on visiting dignitaries.”

Thranduil snorted. That was probably a good rule.

“Now where are the spiders?” He still got no response. Angrily, he pulled Elrohir off Thranduil’s lap and addressed at the adults. “Stand up and turn around. Let me find the spiders.”

Thranduil laughed lightly. “My lord Elrond! All the children did was sit and talk with me. They do not have any spiders.”

Elrond smirked. “You are obviously not a father, Thranduil. I am telling you, there is a spider somewhere on both of you. I know my sons. Now would you like me to remove it?”

Thranduil stood. “If you find a spider on me, Elrond, I will eat it. Your sons are precocious, but they have not played any pranks on me.”

Lindomiel also stood with a bit of a squirmy, shaky, nervous dance, looking about her gown for anything that crawled. She saw nothing and Elrond was surprised to find nothing on Thranduil. He took a deep breath and looked at his sons appraisingly.

“Very well. Perhaps we caught you in time. March to your rooms. Straight there. So help me if you are not there when I get there you will regret it dearly.”

“Ada, what is precocious?”

Elrond frowned. “I will take you to the library and you may look it up. To your room. Now!”

Waving at Thranduil and Lindomiel, the elflings darted off. Thranduil watched them, laughing before he turned his eyes to Elrond. “I see that twins are a blessing from the Valar,” he said with as straight a face as he could muster.

Elrond rolled his eyes. “I would never have guessed how much work they could be. Celebrian says she will not have any more children unless I can guarantee no more twins.”

“They are adorable, Elrond. Very sweet.”

Elrond snorted. “I have not heard them described that way since they started to walk. Thank you, Thranduil. I hope they did not abuse you too badly. Everyone in Imladris is just another family member to them. They have no concept that not everyone wants elflings in their lap.”

Thranduil was smiling. “That is part of what makes them adorable, Elrond. That and their complete disregard for you. I asked them where they were supposed to be and who they were supposed to be with. They laughed and seemed very proud to be ignoring both strictures.”

“Yes, that sounds like my sons. They could not care less what my rules are. They drive me to distraction but I love them. They are my sons.”

“Indeed, I imagine they are that. If you will excuse me, I think I will go court some ladies. It seems I need a wife to make me merry,” Thranduil said with twinkling eyes, taking Lindomiel by the hand. She laughed outright.

Elrond stared at Thranduil, heat rising across his cheeks. “I beg your pardon, my lord Thranduil,” he said softly.

Thranduil laughed. “It is quite alright, Elrond. I have not had so illuminating a conversation during the any of the council meetings. I thoroughly enjoyed your sons’ insights.” He winked at Elrond, picked up the picnic basket and led Lindomiel away, chuckling softly.

It would be amusing to contemplate Elrond wondering what exactly his sons had said.

*~*~*

Lindomiel and Thranduil walked for a good distance before the elvenking stopped snickering. Lindomiel was no less amused.

“Children will say the most interesting things,” she commented with an overly nonchalant tone.

“Indeed!” Thranduil agreed.

Lindomiel giggled and began to spread a blanket under a tree. Thranduil helped her. They both sat, the basket between them. Lindomiel looked at Thranduil who was still laughing to himself.

“Except for that first day on the archery range, you certainly have seemed merry enough to me since you have been here.”

Thranduil smiled at her. “Perhaps I have found the medicine Elrond prescribed for me here,” he said before he really thought. When he realized what he said, he looked down, a little surprised with himself. He reached for the basket to begin to unpack it but she stilled his hands.

“Have you?” she asked with a fairly serious voice.

He looked back up at her. “I can say with confidence that I have been happier in your company than I have been since I was a very young child, Lindomiel. For certain, there is something about you that makes me very merry.”

She smiled and nodded her head, opening the basket herself and reaching in to take out the bread and cheese that she had packed. When she did, she jumped back with a squeal. Thranduil jumped involuntarily as well and looked at her. She had withdrawn her hands from the basket sharply as if something had burned her. Thranduil’s eyes flashed down. He saw several little field mice trying to scramble from the basket. Lindomiel took a deep, calming, breath.

“Mice!” she exclaimed with a hiss. “Those little monsters.”

Thranduil blinked as she dipped her hand in the basket, hastily scooping out the mice and depositing them on the ground. They scampered off fearfully. Lindomiel looked the angriest Thranduil had ever seen her.

“This is what they had in their bag,” she declared, pointing at the last mouse running into the trees. “I thought I felt Elladan doing something but I did not pay any attention because that is when they started talking about what Elrond had said.” Her eyes widened. “They did that on purpose. To distract us.”

Thranduil laughed at her discomposure over the mice. “Come now, my lady. They are fifteen year old elflings at the most. They could not have been so tricksy as to put the mice in the basket much less plot to distract us as they did it. The basket was on the ground and it had bread and cheese in it. The mice climbed in themselves.”

She scowled at him. “You are going to be far too trusting of a father. Those little rapscallions put mice in our picnic basket. What do you plan on eating now?”

He smiled at her indulgently. “We will enjoy the wine and get some food later when we return to the city.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What if those mice crawled in the goblets,” she asked, eyeing them distastefully as Thranduil pulled them out.

He laughed now. “They are just mice, Lindomiel. You will not die just because one touched you,” he said as he reached to his belt for his dagger to help him remove the cork from the wine bottle.

As he did, an enormous, from his point of view, black, hairy spider crawled out of the pocket of his robe and right onto his hand. He felt it before he saw it. When he looked down to see what was tickling his hand, he loosed a yelp that made Lindomiel jump back automatically. Thranduil jumped too—up and away from his previous location shaking his hand violently. The spider flew off it and onto the ground at his feet. He jumped back again, staring at it as if it were the Enemy himself.

Lindomiel burst into laughter. “It is only a spider, Thranduil. You will not die just because one touched you,” she mimicked.

He glared at her, nudging the spider along with his boot. It scurried away. “Come to Eryn Galen. You will die if the spiders there touch you. Valar, I despise spiders. They are revolting.”

Lindomiel nearly fell over onto the grass she laughed so hard. “It is a good thing Elrond did not find it on you. I might still go catch it and make you eat it.”

Thranduil’s face contorted in disgust at that thought and then he looked back towards the city. “Those little terrors. They did that. They did have spiders!” He sounded completely incredulous.

Lindomiel was gasping for air. “Oh Thranduil. Your children are going to eat you alive!”

“No child of mine will ever behave like that!”

Lindomiel raised her eyebrows and looked at Thranduil airily but unable to disguise the amusement in her eyes. “Well from what Lord Hallion told me, if your children were to act like that, they would come by it honestly.”

Thranduil turned wide, astonished eyes on her. “Pray, what did Lord Hallion tell you?”

She laughed lightly. “All sorts of interesting exploits from your youth in Menegroth.”

“Valar!” Thranduil whispered disgustedly.

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AN: Remember that elflings mature much more slowly than mortal children--they do not come of age until they are 50 and Tolkien says some don't reach their full stature until they are 100. In the year this is set, TA 144, Elladan and Elrohir would be 14. That would make them approximately 5 years old  (if you assume a ratio of 50 elf years to 21 mortal years) . The twins are not going to be pranksters (entirely) in this story. They are just young and having fun in this chapter.

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Mae govannen--Well met
Adar/Ada--Father/dad
pen neth--young one
Aran--King