It was not supposed to be a good thing, this white flag that he held in his hands. It meant admitting you had lost, meant that you were at the mercy of the people that had been slaughtering you for months. It was an agony to even consider putting it up, telling his men he had led them astray.

Nonetheless, his enemies were merciful and they would not impose to severe a punishment.

Elladan set the tiny white flag on the mound in front of his legion of elven soldiers. "You cheated that time Arwen came in and distracted me. That's the only reason you won."

Elrohir smiled benevolently down upon his brother. He smirked in that smug older brother way, even though he was only older by 47 seconds. He was older, after all, and the older one always got to win.

I made a second version of the last chapter because it didn't feel final enough to me. Or maybe too final, but not fitting the prompt? Anyways, I'm actually done with this story now, after a tiny little rabbit has been satisfied.