Elladan and Elrohir slipped quietly into the chamber, their fingers intertwined in an unspoken show of solidarity as they approached the bed.
“Come closer,” Celebrían urged, extending a hand toward her sons. A tired smile curved her lips as she watched the wonder dawn in their faces. “Come and meet your new sister. Her name is Arwen.”
A few steps brought the twins to Elrond’s side, and he lifted each of them to sit on the bed before placing his daughter carefully in the arms of his firstborn. “Mind her head, ‘Adan.”
Elladan’s nose wrinkled, one small eyebrow arching in perfect imitation of his father. “She smells funny, Ada.”
Elrohir nodded seriously, his gaze fixed on the squirming bundle in his brother’s arms. “She sounds funny, too, Ada.”
A gentle smile flitted across the Elf-lord’s face. “She is a babe, ‘Rohir, just as the two of you were not so very long ago.” He reached out and touched the soft skin of his daughter’s cheek. “A gift of the Valar.”
Identical grey gazes met for an instant before the chorus sounded.
“Can we not send her back?”
