“Watch out, ‘Dan! You will...”
Elrohir’s next words were drowned in a terrific crash, as Elrond’s ornate chair tipped over, spilling Elladan into an undignified heap on the stone floor, his legs still propped on the wide, gleaming desk.
There was a tense moment’s silence before Elladan began to chortle, and Elrohir could not help but join his brother, both of them laughing until tears streamed over their flushed cheeks. “Ada will slay us if you have broken that thing,” the young elf-knight spluttered, setting aside a near-empty glass before reaching out to assist his twin.
Standing proved to be far more difficult than memory painted. In the end, Elladan simply wriggled out of the way and, between them, the two younglings managed to right their father’s ancient desk chair.
“Where is my glass?” the elder twin asked suddenly, holding up his empty hands as though they were evidence of a crime unnamed. “I had it when I sat down.”
“You dropped it, you dolt,” Elrohir chuckled, tightening his grip on his own freshly filled goblet and the smooth blue glass bottle that was being emptied at an alarming rate. “Likely it has chattered.” His brow furrowing, he shook his head. “Shattered. Likely it has shattered.”
“Then we can use the shards to decorate the Valar-forsaken trees,” Elladan grumbled, snatching his brother’s glass and downing the contents in one gulp. “Manwë’s venerated vestments, ‘Roh!” he snorted, the audacious oath rolling off his tongue rather proudly. “We have already begun to train with the guard...we will soon be warriors.” Honesty regaining the upper hand momentarily, he amended, “Well, in little more than a century we will be warriors. How can they order us to cup and snit...cut and snip...paper stars as though we were but elflings?”
“’Tis an outrage,” the younger twin agreed, reclaiming his goblet. “And ‘tis not as though we are allowed to join in the more investing...interesting...aspects of the celebration.”
“Indeed,” Elladan replied, snickering at his brother’s suggestive grin and waggling eyebrow. “Naught but a glass of whine...wine... and a few dances for our trouble...”
“And this,” Elrohir corrected, forsaking his glass and turning up the heavy bottle, a stream of the fiery cordial burning his throat pleasantly. “Though ‘tis likely not the reward Erestor had in mind.”
“Share, tôren,” the elder twin ordered, prying the near-empty container from his brother’s somewhat unsteady hand and draining the last drops. “We shall soon have to leave our sanctuary and produce little paper heirs...stars...I meant little paper stars...”
Elladan’s fumbling correction was drowned by a burst of maniacal chortling.
“’Tis not done with paper and shears, 'Dan,” Elrohir hooted, “or have you so soon forgotten Ada’s...”
“Hush, 'Roh! You sound like a dying warg!”
The younger twin’s breath-stealing laughter was contagious, and Elladan found himself caught up in the hilarity, drunken visions of tiny paper Peredhil bobbing before his eyes.
**********************
Erestor paused outside the intricately carved door of Elrond’s private study, his attention captured by the unlikely sounds issuing from what should be an empty chamber. With a growing sense of resignation, he identified the source of the caterwauling that was currently assaulting his ears.
The twins.
There had been no lessons for the younglings today. Preparations for the spring festivities had demanded all of his attention since shortly before the nooning, leaving the twins and Arwen free, as well, to aid in the trimming of the Ethuil trees. The daughter of the house, little more than a babe in the larger scheme of things, was sitting quietly in the courtyard, carefully stringing glass beads on fine silk thread. Arwen was a well-behaved elfling, quiet and attentive. Another thud from the study emphasized the fact that the twins were not.
Not quiet, not well behaved...not even really elflings, come to think of it.
Breathing a last prayer for strength, Erestor pushed open the door and slipped inside. “’Adan? ‘Rohir? What are you doing?”
A snort of laughter, quickly muffled, met his inquiry. After a moment Elrohir’s head appeared over the top of Elrond’s desk. “I am clipping paper stars, híren,” the younger twin answered. He picked up his shears and exhibited them as evidence. “’Dan is...is...”
A hissed warning and a burst of helpless snickering interrupted, and Erestor sighed. “Elladan is what?”
“Heisclippingpaperheirs!”
The unintelligible rush ended in a fit of giggling unbecoming a young lord, the chortling cut short by a highly unsuitable oath and a thump as the elder twin clamped a hand over his brother’s mouth, upsetting Elrohir’s precarious balance.
“By the Valar,” Erestor said in disbelief, struggling to keep the hysterical laughter that bubbled in his own chest at bay, “you are both blind drunk!” The counselor’s eyes closed briefly as he fought the temptation to walk away and let someone else...anyone else...deal with it all.
As usual, his sense of duty triumphed.
“Come along, then,” he said with a sigh. “To the bathing chamber with you.”
***************
The ringing of the dinner chimes found both Elladan and Elrohir freshly washed and braided, their faces solemn as they took their places at the high table. If anyone noticed that they ate little, or that they both chose to forgo the excellent Dorwinion wine that was served, instead sipping at water spiced liberally with ginger, no comment was made.
As the table was cleared, Arwen proudly exhibited the strings of beads she had completed, prompting Elrond to turn a questioning gaze on the twins. “And what of your contribution, pin nith? Have you finished the stars?”
Erestor came to the rescue, to the amazement of his charges. “They will help with the draping and lighting this year, híren.”
“Indeed?” the elf-lord replied. “’Tis only fitting, I suppose.” Smiling slightly, he looked to the twins. “’Tis hard to remember, sometimes, that you are almost grown.”
Elladan and Elrohir returned the smile, sharing a hopeful glance. It seemed as though they were to escape with only Erestor’s warning...
“I beg your pardon?”
The startled question broke into the twins’ musings, shaking them from their growing sense of complacency.
Erestor smiled brightly, and had Elrond not known better, he might have thought there was a twinkle of mischief in the counselor’s indigo eyes. “I said, ‘twould be well for the future of your House if you have a talk with your sons.”
“They seem to be a bit confused as to exactly how one goes about the begetting of heirs.”
*~*~*~*~*
