(A sequel to "Two Down")
~Imladris 630 III~
Elladan shook his head adamantly. �Not this time, �Roh. Not again.�
Elrohir�s face took on the expression of injured innocence that meant trouble to all who knew him. �But it is our last chance...out last chance ever! Tomorrow we come of age. Would you really have this failure remain, a stain on our childhood throughout eternity?�
�I would.�
One eyebrow arched in scathing comment, Elrohir turned toward the Last Homely House. �Very well, then,� he sniffed. �I will manage by myself. Somehow.�
Elladan watched the retreat uneasily, visions of mis-measured rope, dislocated shoulders, and Erestor�s carefully concealed amusement swirling in his head. Thoughts of what might transpire with Elrohir left to his own devices quickly followed, and Elladan winced. With a long-suffering sigh, he headed for the house and possible humiliation.
�Certain humiliation,� he amended ruefully, as Elrohir�s plan came into focus. �Possible death.�
�It is simple,� the younger twin said cheerfully, hauling himself onto the steeply pitched roof and scampering dangerously close to the edge. �We anchor the line on that chimney� � he pointed in the general direction of the roof peak � �and swing onto the music room balcony just as the noon chimes begin. Lindir will be coming through the archway to enjoy his meal outside, as he always does.� Elrohir chortled gleefully. �The tray will fly so high that there will be tea on the roof tiles!�
�Do you not think that we are a little old for such pranks, t�ren?� Elladan asked mildly.
�Tomorrow we will be too old,� Elrohir replied, his tone affronted. �Maybe. Today we are safe.�
Elladan looked from his twin�s determined face to the edge of the roof and on to the gardens far below.
Very far below.
�This time,� Elladan said firmly. �I measure.�
***********
Lindir had just stepped through the archway, tray in hand, when a sudden shout followed by a loud crash and unrepeatable oaths drew his attention to the healing hall balcony next door, where Elrond had seemingly decided to take his noon meal, this being such a fine spring day.
Elrond stood beside what only seconds before had been a perfectly adequate table, his robes adorned with splotches and splashes of what could only be his meal, his narrowed eyes fixed on his sons, who fidgeted � silken ropes still in hand � amid the devastation.
The ruined table lay on its side, surrounded by broken crockery and scattered buns, and the rich aroma of lamb stew reached Lindir�s nose, carried on the same gentle breeze that brought him Elrohir�s whispered comment.
�Well, it did work!�