“Move, ‘Dan! Let me do some now!”
Elladan stepped back grudgingly. “All right, but there’s room enough for two. I do not know why we cannot work together.”
Elrohir’s nose wrinkled. “Because you will not move over and let me in, Elladan.”
The elder twin’s eyebrow arched in a perfect miniature rendition of Elrond’s formidable glare. “Fine, then, Elrohir,” he huffed, jostling his way back to the paper-covered table. “We shall do it together.”
A peaceful silence fell over the chamber as the twins worked side-by-side, the stillness broken only by rustling parchment and the occasional remark.
“Give me the glue, ‘Roh.”
“Is this straight?”
“We need something stiffer...”
“There!” Elrohir said at last, a satisfied smile lighting his face. “’Tis finished.”
“Perfect,” Elladan agreed happily. “We must hide it ‘til it dries.”
***********
The excited whispers and fidgeting would have been difficult to miss, even for a less observant elf.
“And what faerie has dusted the two of you this eve?” Elrond said with a smile. “You are near bursting with some mischief, are you?”
Matching giggles sounded in response, but it was an unusually reticent pair of elflings that moved toward their father. “We have something for you, Ada,” Elladan began nervously, darting a glance at his brother.
“Aye,” Elrohir echoed, carefully cradling the crumple of dirtied parchment that he unaccountably held in his hands. “Something for you.”
“Let us see it, then,” Elrond said with a smile, taking the offered package. “I am sure...”
As the outer wrapping fell away, the Elf-lord’s first reaction was mild relief. ‘So this is where it went,’ he thought bemusedly, hefting the irregular shape that he immediately recognized as having come from his own study. The thin, flat stone had anchored correspondence on his overburdened desk for centuries.
“Do you like it, Ada?” Elrohir asked uncertainly.
“We made it ourselves,” Elladan added, reaching for his brother’s hand. “’Tis Iauradar, you know. In his ship.”
“So you can have him closer.”
Elrond looked down at the parchment covered stone, where blue and mithril beads outlined a child’s carefully drawn vision of Vingilot, a single chip of what was once surely a crystal vase glued to her captain’s forehead.
“Ada?”
The Elf-lord’s throat tightened and he raised his had to meet anxious grey gazes. “’Tis a wondrous gift,” he managed, despite the tears stinging his own eyes. Looking out over the gardens, he smiled.
Eärendil twinkled brightly tonight.
“Come,” Elrond said as he rose, extending a hand to each of his sons. “Let us show him.”
*~*~*~*~*
