"Hey Mom!" Estel said in excitement. The boy raced into the banquet hall, brandishing something in his hands that glittered in the fading sunlight. The guests at Rivendell looked surprised, but her residents only smiled at the exuberant child's usual enthusiasm.

He plopped his little bottom onto one of the tall chairs, completely oblivious to the volume of his piping voice as he demanded his mother's attention. Obediently Gilraen set aside her fork and folded her hands, smiling at her only son.

"Elladan taught me this before he left," Estel said with an air of great importance, obviously proud. He held up a pair of joined bronze circlets. They were thin and smooth, with years of finger marks rubbed into the metal. The way he fingered them suggested that they were more precious than mithril to him.

Elrond looked up with a scowl as if Estel's bubbly presence disrupted his meal. He missed the presence of Elladan and Elrohir; they had left more than an hour ago to ride with the Rangers against the Orcs.

Unaware, the boy clumsily separated the rings, flushing when his audience applauded and squirming when his mother pecked a kiss on his cheek.

"Elrond, do you want to see? Look!" Eager to please, the seven-year-old stood up, unaware of his hero's aggravation. Estel dragged the circlets along the stone tabletop, a beaming gap-toothed smile on his face. With a careless swing, the bronze rings collided with Elrond's silver-lipped horn goblet and sent dark wine rushing onto his rich robes.

Horrified, Estel's dark brown eyes widened, staring at the sticky stain blooming on the soft green cloth. A few Elves came to their feet, thinking Elrond was injured.

"Dú er," snapped Peredhil, wiping ineffectually at his ruined apparel. Tears flooded Estel's eyes and his bottom lip trembled.

"Gil-heru?" he quavered, using the affectionate title that he had adopted for Elrond.

"Kel!" the Elf barked, and Estel fled, crushed by Elrond's disappointment in him.

There was a heavy silence in the hall. Elrond waved away the Elf that tried to assist him as dozens of startled eyes stared at their lord for some sign or explanation.

Gilraen struggled to understand the spoken Elvish, but she had no trouble capturing the gist of what had occurred. Her green eyes flashed with a rare sign of life.

"You fool!" she hissed quietly, throwing down her embroidered napkin as she rose to her feet. Though the Dúnadan was at least a head shorter than the tall lord, he lowered his eyes in shame. "I don't understand what's going on with you, Lord Elrond, but I do know that you will not take it out on my child. Do you understand?"

She poked a finger in his chest.

He made no excuses, nor indeed did he say anything at all. Silently he swept from the hall, still radiating a sense of power despite his humiliation.