Elrohir’s eyes were perfectly round. “What is that?” he whispered, reaching blindly for his brother’s hand.
Elladan shook his head helplessly, his attention fixed on shining eyes and wiggling tails. “I think there are two of them,” he ventured. “Rabbits? Their tails twitch.”
“What has happened to their ears, then?” Elrohir demanded.
“A fight?” Elladan offered dubiously, casting a pleading glance at his father, whose lips were quivering with poorly concealed amusement.
“They are puppies, ‘Adan. Young dogs.”
Gildor chuckled heartily. “You should be ashamed, my Lord,” he teased, placing his wriggling burden in Elrond’s arms, “to have so deprived your sons.”
Watching her husband introduce the awestruck twins to their new friends, Celebrían smiled, laying a hand on Gildor’s arm. “I do not know what put it into your head, or your heart, to do that,” she said quietly, “but I thank you.”
The gypsy-elf spared a brief glance for Celebrían’s babe-swollen belly, then smiled in return.
*~*~*~*~*
