One And One Makes Three

At the end of a long series of mathematic problems, Erestor finally threw a series of simple but lightning fast questions at Elladan and Elrohir to test the speed of their responses. 

“Ten add ten?”

“Twenty!” They chorused together.

“Correct!  Thirteen and fifteen?”

“Twenty-eight!”

“Correct!  One and one?”

“Three!”

“Corr ... What?”  Erestor stopped, sure he must have misheard.  “No, I said one and one.”

“Three!” Elrohir repeated confidently.

Erestor hesitated. He knew the twins too well, and mistrusted Elrohir’s infallible, infuriating logic.   "Three? Why three?" he asked warily.

"Glorfindel says so!  He it says every time Asfaloth goes in a field with a mare; one and one makes three!”

"He means a foal,"  Elladan explained kindly. "Asfaloth and the mare ..."

"Yes, yes, I know what happens!"  Erestor sighed, the beginnings of a headache lurking behind his eyes.  "Glorfindel says so, does he?  Of course.  I should have known!”

~*~*~